Indistinct Evil
by Engineer Jess
Summary: [Chapter 27 up] Takes place after Pride and Humiliation. Buzz settles down on his home planet to rebuild his life. But there's a shadow from the past to haunt him... And NO FLAMES, thanks.
1. Prologue

Thanks to EMZ and Captain Buzz Lightyear for ideas and help. Buzz Lightyear of Star Command © Disney/Pixar. I don't own either the stuff I'm spoofing. 

**[-¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤-]**

**Episode VII**  
Indistinct Evil

_"I walk in a dream. This sky, this living sphere of illusions. It cannot be real. Faster than wind it flies by... but there is no wind. No whisper of trees. No whisper of willows. The gilded and sapphire dust falls all around me. In its ring dance, maidens dance with golden ribbons in their hair, they play a twinkling melody with their shining cymbals. The bonfire flares, it throws its red sparkles around as the performers speed up the tempo. The golden and silver cimbaloms chink even more dreamlike... The chariots of blaze storm forwards with the wings of a griffin. I raise my voice and sing... when the starlight's rain falls around me... I extend my hand and touch a star... touch the light, touch the shadows... but the shades fall faint beside these jewels and crowns of great kings. The sky is open. It has no end. Where I go, there is the patter of starry shower around me. I walk in a dream... still, now, maybe forever."_

Cold, smooth, flat... 

A pair of bare feet slowly padded along a metallic surface. The toes curled up occasionally when an unknown covering material felt strange under the soles. _Thud, thud, thud_... the murky corridor echoed lightly. The footsteps leaded to a lone side room, a sliding door whooshed open away from their way... creaking back into its frames. Empty... there was barely anything in the roundish, dark-blue chamber than a flat glossy table in the middle floor and a few padded seats perching around it. The floor was dotted by the incoming light. Through an oval-shaped large window shone stars and galaxy formations inside. A majestic show of light and shadow it was. A dance of platinum sea of gemstones... And upper there, near the ceiling the shades swallowed the whiter ether.

The feet walked towards the window. Slowly, timidly, as if not having courage to enter this intergalactic firework. A stop. They had reached the fenestra. Upper, a finger extended itself to slide along the hard plasto-alloy glass. Like its owner, also this tiny body member was so full of wonder. It tried to hide one of those shiny spots under it, but the cunning star moved quickly away. The speed... it hardly felt under the metatarsi. The petty growl of the gravitational booster was more striking. Or whatever it was. Those fine names meant nothing for this befogged figure. Just fine words... Perhaps they were meant to be a part of this dream. Every second it felt as uncanny as from the beginning on. The courage had been feeble, but where the swaying treads had lead, it was a splendor of pomp and saltatoric figments... 

The sliding door behind there was heard to open. _Thunk, thunk, thunk_. Louder gaits reached the slim shape stagnating under the starlight. It did not wince, although a pair of arms slid themselves around it from backwards. The shadow picked slowly up the second one of those big hands that now held its waist. The smaller, darker hand's firm squeeze told about the confidence that was granted to this incomer.

"Still want to look at the stars?" a man's voice asked quietly. Buzz nuzzled his cheek against Yoka's back of the neck, closing his eyes. He sensed the confusion of the girl he held. Of course it was all bewilderment. Someone who had never gone much further than her own village, was suddenly thrown to travel across the eternities. Her expressions... what they had been, when the stratosphere had once been achieved. Like in a spell the fearful awe had grown to immeasurable wonder. The indescribable sights had been a bit too much to bear at once. She had fallen into speechlessness... that had not yet ceased after weeks. 

He descended inside his memories. Perhaps it felt a bit alike, when the Captain as a little boy for the first time had been traveling in a long-distance starship. He had pushed his nose flat against the window, gazing at the past-flying space his mouth open. Then had come the conclusion. There he wanted to be, among those glistening bright dots, defending them against the menacing darkness. A four-year-old's enthusiastic reverie had turned to sheer reality... he was now the brave hero of his childhood's fantasies. And anew encountering the same welter tens of years later.

The woman agreed slightly to his question. This was not the first time she had arrived to this cabin just to stand and gawp. The stellar distances, that wide blackness out there... she could not comprehend. Not quite weave the thoughts in her inexperienced mind. Her home was supposed to be somewhere there... she perhaps could have understood if a grand sea had expanded anteriourly. She would have known that somewhere on the horizon, a shimmering shore told about the familiar planes. But... how was anyone to conceive or find anything behind this vastness? How many miles would someone need to ride a steed to reach a _light year_? Besides... _what_ was a home now? Was the place she had left behind not a home any longer? How did her past life feel just like a gush of airstream, as if it had never existed? As if she had just one night woken up in this bizarre wagon that glided past the constellations...  Kaleva was somewhere there, but hazed.

Yoka-hanen was an alien in this novel world, in the whole meaning of the word. No one quite understood her or her language, except _he_... Perhaps the other isolated did also a bit, but what did a few expressions count in the chaos of total obscurity? Although being a human, there was none of her kind over here. She realized initially quite well what it had felt like for Team Lightyear to step in to her village, when there was nothing familiar around. Although... they had had themselves as encouraging company. But here... here was none of her kind. The weird languages were just plain porridge in her ears. English had become more recognizable, but scarcely anyone could learn to master a whole new lingua in just a few months. Especially if it had for the second half consisted of invectives and angry grunts.

But after _him_ she had walked, a hand had pushed her forwards... a white airlock was closed after her. The soft snow under her moccasins had turned to a metalline ground. Kaleva was locked away, vanishing below the ships... a last look... and the clouds had dropped their curtains across the view.

Where was this flying wagon going to? That question Yoka asked all over again. The man kept smiling gently, trying to do his best in describing the unknown. Yet the minutes just crawled forwards, the travel seemed endless... When? When would the stars be hidden again behind a billow mass? Did a sun shine at all in the place where they finally would land? Could she ever feel anything else but this cold alloy under her soles, or was there grass, sand, moss somewhere else too? Little questions, tiny fearful questions that had a strong meaning for her. Those issues were perhaps just a howl of the wind for the others... sometimes she had the sentiment. The strange sensation that she was not quite accepted.

Yoka felt Lightyear's grip closing again. In that hold was the only acceptance, the only safety in the middle of mental uproar. His spinning thoughts were not far away from hers. A few of his fingers brushed some of her black locks away from her shoulder, his lips trying to reach her cheek upper there. She closed her eyes rapt by his caresses, a fuzzy impression of warmth and sanctuary filling her inners.

"I never though... I would fall in love with you like this..." a few silent syllables were uttered right at her ear. The sonus fell more melancholic. "In my stupidity I saw you as my enemy... My Yoka... Thank you for opening my eyes. Thank you for teaching me the real meaning of goodness. No more is Buzz Lightyear going back to darkness. But I'm afraid I can't go back either to the things I used to take for granted in my life..."

The Kalevan comprehended fully perhaps one fourth of the sentences. Nevertheless, they embedded the assurance she hungered for. And the tiny expression, "love". She still could not utterly say the same back, as being so insecure. 

"I can't go back to my usual work, not at least now. I have to learn to live with you and learn to know you better. I've been thinking... where to go, what to do. I have my house on Capital Planet, but perhaps that's not the best place for you to start. Also _I_ need a calmer place to be after this adventure. Some silence to think. Heh, never have done much thinking, but I guess it's the time for that now."

The statements turned blurrier and blurrier in her brains. No one had switched on a translator for her convenience.

"I den't understeend, Praad C'cressaan..." A hush made her quiet down. Buzz turned her about, casting a mild look in her eyes.

"It's _Buzz_. You don't have to call me like that."

"Bzz..." she murmured. The whole sound was so weird, since nothing was pronounced in Sivakka with such phonetic forms. In her ears the name had resounded somehow so ridiculous, namely as if a bee would be droning around. "Bzzz... Bazzzz... Buzzzz...zz..." she sipped the diphthong as if they were a bite of some odd food. Yoka looked so concerned that Lightyear could nothing but chuckle at her confuse. 

"Now that's better. Once you have listened to my father's speech enough, you'll get the zetas right." Snapping his wrist communicator's multilingual interpreter on, he leaded her to sit at the table. Even the desk's translucent surface reflected the galactic lamps. This was one of the moments when the Alliance ship, with which they trekked, was not in hyperspace. It searched for a suitable wormhole to crawl in. Thus its flutter was steadier, as the engines were switched off for normal unidirectional dashing along Newton's First Law.

"Now... what I was telling you, was that I have been thinking of what to do. We'll be back at home in two weeks or something. I might put my Capital Planet's house for leasing and move on Morph. I think it would be snugger for you. You gotta get used to this all. Heh, craters, the Capital's too busy and weird for you, I can figure that out."

Morph. She had once or twice heard that name. "That was your home, did you not tell me so?" she asked.

"Uh-huh. And pretty much like your planet... uhh well Commander Nebula said yours had no name in our charts. Anyway, I thought it wouldn't be such a shock for you then if we'd go somewhere that at least a bit resembles to the place where you used to live. Morph's... a lot of forests, lakes, seas, with two moons. And it's not far away from Capital Planet, so we can pop there anytime if needed. Same Quadrant, same Sector." With these notions, he went on with a short tale about his childhood there.

"I... I had several places there where I spent my years. My father uhh... "died" when I was five, but well off course I couldn't know he had turned to the dark side and staged his own death, umm well you can see him around now, but then he was sort of "dead" or well... dead in the meaning that he had turned evil. Turned dead concerning goodness and left me in the belief that he _was_ dead..." Buzz fingered his cleft, noticing his own rambling speech, ceasing it. He did not want to cause her more awkwardness. Already it had been seen that Yoka-hanen considered over half of the fellow passengers the most peculiar things she had ever met. "So, in any case his mother, whom I sometimes call Nana Lightyear, took me then under her roof. She was a widow then, my grandfather died just a bit after my mother passed away. Nana was the nicest old granny one could ever have had, although I often got socks as presents and had to clean my room neat but that it was. She put me in the Junior Rangers. That's ahh well sort of boy scout version of the space rangers, but I guess it won't say much to you, eh?" he cast a smile on her. The woman smirked back, shaking her head.

"Anyway, then Nana died. Some distant relatives of the Lightyear family took me then but they weren't nice for me. I was just kicked around until I was old enough to join the Space Ranger Academy and move on to Capital Planet. I guess I didn't even bother to count the amount of households where I was put in temporarily. One of the worst ones was the Urksleys, Zora's cousin's family. I stayed there about half a year, had just a dismal room under a staircase, and was teased all the time by the family's big fat son. Umm I guess I'm confusing you again. But, I've later visited Morph a few times, and it's just the same as before. The beautiful nature's just as lush as ever, and I guess we might settle down to my old home town." His index played with one of her locks, asking the opinion. He had made her cuddle up under his arm since Buzz wanted to feel her presence, her warmth against him. Her gray eyes did not quite know what to respond. Those were his spheres, arcane for her. But it felt mellow that he indeed cared to ponder what she might want. A shy nod, and Lightyear made his counts.

The engines of the vessel had been put on. An acceleration towards hyperspace was on. A little vibration shook the massive ship as the jump gate activated, throwing the dimensions upside down. The stars behind the window vanished, turning to the psychedelic light formations of a wormhole.


	2. Stare in the dark

------A few weeks later------

Life started to settle gradually down. Capital Planet had been left in its own peace, and Buzz had returned to the quarters of his old hometown. Kaon was a half-rural village somewhere on the northern hemisphere of Morph, with scattered settlement around it. It had no real silhouette, perhaps it from upwards resembled some kind of giant spider that had tangled up with its own legs. A thick mixed forest surrounded it from the other side in the shape of a stretched banana. The other side ended up to the light splashes of water. A large lake widened towards the horizon, leaving only a foggy blue ribbon to tell about the opposite shore somewhere there. The centre of the city was rather small, with the services needed for everyday life. Shops, little stores and stalls were around a paved marketplace, the city hall sticking out on one border of the square. Some of the buildings were modern architecture, but the city's basis lay on older stone foundations. The white town hall was a representative of this newer wave, but one could distinguish delicately built, decorated wooden villas here and there. Among them were even more ancient, somehow medieval-looking forms. At least the local claim to fame, a half-wrecked massive castle was the slave of this style. It jutted on a hilly island, about a good swim-distance away from the petite harbor. In overall, the surroundings narrated about a colorful history. As everywhere, this place had its own legends. An enthusiastic historian could have stayed half of his life here, and not getting enough of scribblings done. And if there was a nasty gap in some local tale, the inhabitants gladly filled it with their own theorems and storylines. Of course there was supposed to be the official history too, but also it tended to be a bit colored with those _'his grandmother's cousin's old neighbor told him thirty years ago that there was this man living about one and half centuries ago who blah blah blah'_ -isms. 

Humans were not the natives on Morph, but had come there a few hundred years ago. Still they lived together with the original denizens, a humanoid-type race that looked... well, quite boring in the very meaning of the word. Grey seemed to be their element in everything. Their skin was grayish, as well as their eyes and hair. They always had somewhat an apathetic expression on their thin faces, like someone who had listened to a six-hour-speech about cicadas' eating habits would have had. Some of them, for some completely absurd reason, preferred even gray clothes. Yet, they were not imbeciles anyhow, but as witty and nifty as the human beings, and friendly personalities. They just happened to look as cheerful as old, musty prunes. On the whole, the town's atmosphere was perky, homey, perhaps a bit introvert, but not impolite. It was nice to pop to a tiny cafeteria or bakery or anywhere, since there was always someone who would greet you, discuss about weather or ask had the aunt's aching toe got already better. Though, the climate was not that fascinating topic of speech. The temperature variations were not that scandalous on these latitudes, the winters usually being rather mild and the summers never too hot.

Buzz had bought a medium-sized single-family house at the outskirts of the city. He had had a neat amount of uni-bucks in the stocking leg, so it was not a problem to set up a new home. The space ranger job had paid well during all these years, and before this Lightyear had virtually had no interest to budget his shekels for almost anything. Thus... a neat, bluish-colored modern-shaped dwelling was waiting for the couple. It had three stores, funny little alcoves here and there, and round doors and windows. A good garage was in the first floor, containing of course Lightyear's speeder. The garden was rather large, in addition that the adjacent houses were not actually quite close. On Capital Planet Mr. Heymans always cut the hedgerow right under the Captain's nose. But alike it was not here. Narrow sand roads that crisscrossed hither and thither, separated even the most contiguous huts from each other. Equally behind his shiny noveau fortress there was one of those footpaths, whereas behind it was a large, empty site growing meager sallow and high grass. Nature was indeed quite wild at this district. The forest made fun of the urban greenhorns. Small, horned rabbit-like rodents were a common sight destroying the plantings. Once or twice a month someone nagged that a moose had come to eat his or her flowerbeds, then the animal had just scampered back in the woods mooing scornfully.

The moving process had not been an agony. Daddy Zora, Warp and the rest of Team Lightyear had offered their help, and also given a neat heap of housewarming gifts. Though... Buzz had no idea where he could put all the presents that quite did not fit with the existing decoration. Zurg had given purple tableware with z-figures all over it, as well as a huge, autographed oil painting of himself. Darkmatter had piled a heap of those maroon-colored oddities he had his mansion full, in front of his friend. The Captain did not quite know where to place all those pillows, tapestries, oriental drapes and such, since preferring a clean, whitish and simple décor himself. And the oil paintings did not end. Perhaps it was a conspiracy against the household. The blue man slammed a portrait of himself -even bigger than Zurg's one- under Buzz' regard. Now where would that be put? The idiotically smug, grinning mug of Darkmatter would quite not be the living-room's most winsome piece of decoration. Then there were all kind of miscellaneous artifacts. A bunzel-boiler from Booster, a series of pink porcelain kittens from Mira, a walking, miniature-sized trash compactor that worked with a tiny landanah cylinder from Zarah, and so on. Buzz grinned happily when receiving all the junk, perhaps he would during the next years invent what to do with them.

Indeed, the Captain had once more stepped out of his space ranger suit. This did irk his subconscious, but the previous experiences almost forced him to quit. He perhaps could find something less dangerous work on Morph, maybe part-time job or relevant. In everyone's life comes the spot, when silence is needed. Now it was his turn.

So, the rest of Team Lightyear went on with their missions employed by Star Command. Years, and years again had passed since the rookie times. All the three were crafty rangers, and could survive as a smaller team. This was not even quite the first occasion. One point from Buzz' kidnap. A second point from his Lord Zenith -adventures. And a wheelbarrowful of more points from the countless previous cases. So, Mira took the pilot seat whereas XR and Munchapper went on with their regular tasks.

Also, some registrations and formal papers needed to be signed until everything was in order. Buzz and Yoka were already legally married, but had to enroll their status to the Alliance's population register, and so on. The woman received a real surname, which she found quite odd. Everyone in Kaleva was identified by whose son or daughter he or she was, not depending on was that person married or not. Perhaps Buzz' wife could have claimed her name being "_Yoka-hanen Vainamoisentytaer_", but shyly was content with "Lightyear". Besides, her mate was not really able to spell that jawbreaker.

------------------------

 "Uhh... no, no, put that thing away."

Buzz sighed, blowing out the fire of a match Yoka held in her hand. Her big eyes looked very confused. Again she had done the wrong thing?

Lightyear had just arrived home. He had been about two hours away, doing some of his own commissions in Kaon's city centre. He had left Yoka at home because of her being still fully asleep, whereas he had his nightly stubble fixed to fit the existing facial hair, briefcase made ready and a light breakfast eaten. He had not simply dared to shake her awake, but pondered that the girl might still slumber when he returned. Of course he should have remembered that she was just taking the first cautious steps in entering the things that were matters-of-facts for him...

Yesterday the couple had moved in. Most of the furniture was still messily around the first floor, large boxes here and there undone. It had been a diurnal of toiling, carrying things all over, and keeping a housewarming party late till the small hours. Yoka-hanen, used to her own planet's different orbital course, required a lot more sleep than what the Captain was used to. A logical consequence why she was still snoring loudly while the others on this planet were as perky as chaffinches.

In any case, a minor chaos had awaited Buzz as he parked his speeder back in the garage. His wife had woken up, obviously trying to start cooking. Their kitchen had one of those flash-microwave combo-ovens that resembled somewhat the ancient stoves. It had the oven part below with a large shutter, and on the top six laser-warming hot-plates. Well... as the man had entered the galley, he had found her on her knees on the floor. A match was burning in her hand, whereas the oven was stuffed full with firewood.

"Uh, no... you don't need _wood_ to warm up that thing", he heaved another sigh. She looked completely puzzled.

"How I doing _aamiainen_? I do no understeend?" she got up, wiping some rind dust off her suede shirt. It was obvious that this woman understood nothing about how to use this device. Buzz contemplated. She had not really seen one of these anywhere? During the long space flight she had learned to use some widgets like a holo-reader, a laser, accepted with a few day's hesitation that rooms could be lit with lamps and not candles or fire. What came to making food, the Alliance transport had had a cook, as well as the Star Command's premises where they had spent the rest of the time before moving here. Buzz had virtually been all the time with her, so she had had not a change to hit her itchy fingers anywhere. The Morphean had not brought her on Capital Planet, since thinking that it would have been too much of a shock. The Base had some calm rooms in its vast belly, for civilians and guests that occasionally had to sojourn there for a while. All the formalities, officialisms and such had been handled there; Lightyear had found a tenant for his Capital house very fast. Thus they had arrived straight here, Zurg and company flying on the heel with Buzz' property. As his father had nothing else to do, he had occupied himself to collect his son's belongings and guide the renter to the empty apartment.

Yet, Buzz still stood baffled in front of the micro. He had begun to unload those heavy logs away from the oven, encountering then a question.

"Where did you exactly get this wood, by the way? I mean..." She could not possibly have had brought that from the forest in this time. There were more of those billets in a neatly made stack in one corner. Yoka gesticulated at him to follow her. She went through the living-room to the backdoor, creaking it open. One of the bigger trees of the backyard had been axed by her own Kalevan hatchet, and a part of the timber was chopped to smaller pieces. She did not understand what she had done wrong, but kept tilting her head and babbling about making food. Nonetheless, Buzz could not be angry because of this. He burst into a horse-laugh, next giving lessons about how to use a flash micro.

There were far more obstacles on the road. The day went on with all kinds of vacuities. Although the Kalevan had seen water taps, she still had the impression that the liquid might cease coming from there. Thus she during the midday got a whim to start storing drink water into big buckets, as if the faucet would dry up any moment. As being quite over-hygienic, she by afternoon had noted that one of Buzz' shirts was quite untidy. Lightyear came across her in the bathroom; she was rubbing his blouse against a wooden washboard. This item must have had been a part of her possessions, since he could possibly not recollect any of those stone-aged flotsam being in his assortments. Hence Mrs. Lightyear learned what a _washing-machine_ was.

Next morning Yoka had woken up earlier than her husband. He met her knelt, washing the hall's floor with a rag in her hand, and Buzz' shampoo bottle's inners spread all over the flat surface. Again, perplexity. His shakes of head announced that more lectures were ahead. Opening up one box, he peeled some weird-looking bot from the shield plastics. With a remote control, the tiny robot began living. It threw the rag away, dosed detergent from its inners and started cleaning up the floor with its little brushes and sponges.

"See, my Yoka? The house-cleaning is way easier this way. No one needs to toil like we used to do in Kaleva." He smiled warmly at her. Today she had had brains to carry a translator with her after all the confusions, so that they would better understand their different languages.

"Umm and one more thing..." he chuckled, "Actually my shampoo is maybe not meant for floors, although it's sorta soap." He handed her the empty package. "Look, it says '_for hair_' on it."

Again a shiftless mien had troubled her face. Yoka eyed at the bottle, trying to understand the lines of the odd gibberish.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." he abruptly recalled, putting a finger on his lower lip. "Sorry, I... I didn't remember you... can't read English." Yes, this was the truth. She mastered perfectly her own language's pictographic alphabet, whereas many other women in Kaleva were completely illiterate. His smirk had now faded. Buzz could see her saddened figure in front of him. He read self-reproach and shame in her eyes, that expression being even too familiar for him. The dark statue room in the bowels of Suur-Kaleva... she had been staring long at the one cold stone sculpting. Faintly his eyes had caught her visage for a fraction in the dim lantern light... Perfectly the same look.

Failure. Such a thing she sensed herself to be. Back at home the girl had seemed to be nothing but a constant dishonor for her demanding father. Now in this uncanny empyrean of machines she could proceed nothing right either? Just the same as in the space ship's jungle of widgets, only now it felt somehow even more shameful. As if the female had learned nothing during the weeks. Her sadly drooping hands were picked up by his ones, a warm squeeze giving support.

"Yoka... don't be sad if you can't just right ahead adapt to all this. I mean... if I were you, I couldn't do that either. As you see, it won't happen in a day, or in a week, or in a few months. You need time. I won't be pushing you into anything. Umm well... but perhaps one thing is on the top..." he clicked his teeth together, aiming an asking regard at her. "I'll try to teach you to read and write. We'll figure out something."

Snap. More things started swirling around his intracranial caves. What on Mercury was his sweetheart wearing? If they had been back in Kaleva, the outfit she had would have told about a forthcoming hunting trip. Shaking his head, Buzz admitted that he had too loads of things to learn and arrange. She needed appropriate clothes. She needed good shoes. He would need to tell her not to carry a crossbow and a quiver on her back everywhere. Definitely, Buzz Lightyear did not have much experience concerning women or how to fathom their world. The opposite gender had always made him tangle up with his words and feel like an idiot. Finally he had with efforts broken those barriers and for the first time in his life, truly fallen in love. But just a warm sensation was not quite enough. With patience, he would have to bow his head and _learn_. Swallow the pride. 

He leaded her to sit on the sofa that had found its position in the half-decorated living-room. A few other notions had also popped in his mind, so those brainwaves needed responses. Her gape followed the datalines of his holo-portable, apprehending a piece of nothingness. Buzz had logged in to the city's network, checking out if the local evening institute had anything to give to total tenderfoots like his beloved. Namely, as it was brooded on further, her knowledge in many subjects was lower than the one of kids going to comprehensive school. Not the slightest clue about what an _atom_ was. The false belief of electricity being some kind of creature that lived inside wires. There would be loads of work to do to get her out of the mental backwoods.

"Craters... too bad this is a small town and they don't have so much in the adult education... but you'd need to go to school of some kind. Of course it would be easy to learn things over the Intergalactic Network, but because you can't read, that's not an option yet."

She curled under his arm, nestling against his side. He did not detest her because of her lack of education, but was ready to help. A sweet tenderness lulled Yoka's heart. Her owner definitely had changed from the rude beginning. Feasibly this all would glide softly forwards, though with the predictable hills and valleys.

The day flew by with learning alphabet. Buzz felt principally like a preschool teacher, but smirked at the whole role. As the man had come to perceive in the past, Vainamoinen's gift was not debilitated. She started learning moderately fast to recognize the inkblots that were supposed to be letters. An old-fashioned book printed on real paper was the best tutor. The 'educator' did not recall a piece of meson about how a copy of "_My Magnificent Deeds and Evident Heroism: A Self-Memoir_" by _Gilderoy__ Lockhart_ had drifted in his bookshelf, but at least it had use. Slowly the night fell behind the window, as the lovers sipped tea, and went on to study the beauty and glory of letter W.

But the idyll of the night started feeling somehow oppressing for Buzz at some point. He had the strangest sensation that something was watching him. It was not his wife, she lay nestled against him, her eyes in the book he held. The Captain slowly shifted his leer towards the living-room window. Out there, it was almost ink black. A few faint lamps stood in the back yard, but were mostly shaded by the decorating trees. Thus the in the window glass, Buzz met only his own reflection against the dark background. Giving a little snort, he wiped the thoughts away. Perhaps there was nothing, or maybe it was just a night owl sitting on some of those branches and marveling the two odd creatures inside the lit room.

But out there, in the warm summer darkness, _was_ something. It was not an owl perching in a tree, nor a cunning slinky fox standing on the top of the yard's hedgerow. Behind it, though, was something. A completely charcoal, vague shape crouched there, immovable. As if waiting or... observing something.

...to be continued...


	3. Hunting and ruins

---------The next day-------------

"Now... I'll be a few hours away. Do you now remember how to use this communicator? You just push the same figures I gave you on that paper, and then this blue button in the right side. Just like we tried it. In case you need to talk to me... hehe, 'through the little window' like you say."

Yoka eyed at the functions the wrist communicator she had had attached to her left arm for a while now. It had been mainly for the voice-translation purposes this far, but about an hour ago, Buzz had taught her how to make a simple direct-connection vidcall. Her head was still swirling after yesterday's long lessons of alphabet reading. Dozens of black fly-blow-looking dots to study, and all they looked almost the same. And of course they had to have completely a different logic than Sivakka's pictographic literary form. But... conceivably she would get the point of this com gadget easier, since she had at least seen tens of times before how he made a comlink connection with these ones.

It was a considerably early morning, and Buzz was leaving again. He had a job interview today at the City Hall in attendance of Commander Nebula, as well as a dozen other minor or major matters to handle in the town centre. Yoka could have some free time at home again, provided that she would give him a call if she wanted to use some hi-tech widget and did not know how. And perhaps Buzz was a bit credulous also to think that she would not do anything stupid any more.

"Can I go for a walk?" she asked before he stepped out of the door.

"Sure, Yoka dear. Just don't go too far, ok?" he answered smiling. Surely a little walk could do no harm?

Yoka-hanen's blue-eyed husband was somewhat wrong. As the front door had whooshed shut, and his speeder's engine roar vanished, she calmly finished her breakfast and went to get her hunting attire on and pack some snack with her. 'Walking' meant her just one single thing: go and catch some food. The thick, wide woods began about a kilometer further from their house. The front door clanged once more close and a tall figure, with a huge crossbow along a quiver hanging from its back, emerged from the yard.

Truly, the morning was still early. An airy mist floated in the lowlands, and the sun's rays were still pale. The sand road rattled blithely under the girl's moccasins, and she felt a sense of brisk freedom growing in her heart. She promenaded on, past houses towards the green tint in front of her. Weird shapes these teepees had. And no one seemed to be around. Kaleva's main road was always teeming at this time of the day. These people here _were_ odd. Or... actually _she_ was the odd one not knowing the local habits, Yoka admitted pursing.

There were no paved streets to cross before the plants around the early-traipsing female started getting denser. The path however made a stop to a fence. She hopped over it, made another jump over a broadish reed-mace growing ditch, ending up to stand on the very edge of the destination. Ah, the lush wide greenness... there she would enter.    

For the first time after leaving the plains of Kaleva Yoka felt the same light freedom she had used to have as maiden. The forest around her was fragrant with profound odor of resin and exotic flowers. The thick crowns of the leaf trees rustled above her, as she entered deeper and deeper the place she felt so united with. An ancient Kalevan rune beat rhythmically in her heart... the Master of Forests, the Great Tapio had a daughter called Tellervo. In her childlike mind, the Indian often identified with this mythical damsel. Ah, how the whisper of trees hummed together with her solemn melody. _"Kas mikkihiiri maettaehaeltae maettahaelle kaey, ja pikku jalka pilkahtaa..."_ she let the whole solo boast out of her lungs, stretching her arms in the air. Someone might have considered her being feeble-minded because of bellowing Gibberish around like that, but the woman did not care.

It was definitely a dreamy relief to jump along soft tussocks after all the metallic, clanging lands. There really existed things behind the stars that her heart was bound with. Like a miracle... a wide, warm smile spread on her face, as Yoka took a good breath of the balmy, fresh air. It never winded quite like this in her old home village. The lake back there, with its ample high seas, gave a remarkable flush of freshness to the climate. Well, at least in the city and in this brisk forewoods. The energetic willows and birches sprouted here and there, and in the middle of them were older, beard lichen growing spruces. Her mind broke the barriers of confusion and embarrassment. Here, here in the kingdom of flora and fauna she knew herself. Here was no one saying that she did everything wrong. Alike in the woods of Kaleva... her sacred sanctuary of past. Here she could be her own lord.

The greenness turned duskier as the steps went on. Also, the tree trunks turned ever wider and wider and their branches more hoary. These were the grandfathers of the forewoods, she thought simpering. Her sense of time had vanished, and several miles were evidently behind. The woman made a little notice for her surprise. There was a small path emerging from the nearby bushes, dry needles and low grass as its blanket. It could be seen that this track had been perhaps decades or more time ago used a lot, but it seemed to be forgotten now. It had been far much wider once, but nowadays the earthier sides had limber seedlings growing there like some uncared-for hedgerow. It meandered as a small ribbon towards the hummocks ahead, vanishing behind an enormous, primeval oak of some sort. The sun did not shine much in here, but the shrubberies were rather full of crackling and tweeting, life bloomed everywhere. Animals strolled around, yet hiding in the shadows untamed. As Yoka wanted to enjoy her liberty and figured out much nothing else to do, she decided to follow the footpath. Perhaps it would take her to interesting places. The gleam of her adventurous nature ignited in her gray eyes, drawing her grin wider. Just because of her sheer delight, she made a few somersaults in the air after leaping high, letting an old hunting whoop echo out. The wilderness had gotten the upper hand of her.

The trail coiled and squirmed, as if it had no end. Past large boulders and block stones it stubbornly wriggled like some muddleheaded basilisk. The light coming in had turned scarcer and scarcer, but Yoka did not care. This virgin forest was a heaven. She used her time wisely, though. As understanding that the Lightyear family would need food, she ambushed several larger rodents that were quite light-witted. A swish of an arrow, and another one of those furries was hanging lifelessly from her back. The woman conceived doing nothing wrong, only she wondered a bit that she had not seen more hunters around. "Food" seemed to keep hopping in the coppice quite exuberantly. Perhaps tomorrow she could come back and put some booby traps up, and thus their house would have eatables plentifully! Yoka-hanen did not much know about grocery stores or supermarkets this far, neither that she would need a hunting permit to assail any unlucky creatures here. Those were unidentified definitions in the wild world she had appeared from. Right at the moment, if someone had come to jabber her about getting a pile of licenses from the local police department, she would have merely considered it as a bad and confusing joke.

Now however something strange seemed to be ahead. Those moss-growing structures further on did not seem quite fitting to the lush bottle-greenness. They had not been visible until Yoka-hanen had emerged from behind a huge old tree, whose mere trunk had the width of a petty single-family house. After climbing over the massive roots that stood occasionally several feet over the terrain, the abnormal show was reached.

She gasped. One of her fingers scratched her hair. Did these Morpheans or Kaonians have their own miniature Suur-Kaleva? So it looked like in her eyes. The trees were more dispersed here, though so vast and shaggy that sunlight did not pierce them. In any case, there was a round, almost open place surrounded by copious oak-like plants and some firs. In the middle, were the evident ruins of some larger building. Nowadays the sculpted stones were having lichen covering, being half-buried inside the high grayish boggy moss. Here and there some pillars tried desperately hailing their glory towards the sky. But the majesty-effect was gone, as it appeared that they were broken halfway up, missing their hats and tops. Upon the nearest one to Yoka, a tiny cock-eyed owl roosted and inanely goggled at the girl. It blazed up and started enthusiastically to fly round and round her head, like some brainless fly, hooting incessantly.

_"Mokoma toljake! Suksi suolle, senkin kitukasvuinen poelyhuiskunkuvatus!" _she snapped, whisking her arms around to get the pest away. Finally it after so on fifty circulations gave up, wafted onto the nearest branch and called twenty similar owls to perch there with it. They seemed to be enormously interested in to gawk at her, and tilt their heads in a line. Snorting she gave a glare at the bizarre birdies and decided to take a closer look at the ruins.

As her curious steps wandered among the wrecked structures, conclusions were made. This had been a high construction of some kind, perhaps a tower. Yoka had never seen such a thing, but with her frisky imagination could create vivid illusions. Flames had once licked the rocks, since they were blackened from the parts were lichen was not carpeting them. There had been a fire, or relevant that had devastated the building. Shrugging she wondered why the nearest ancient trees did not seem to have any sign of damage in them. Well, perhaps they had either grown later or then these uncanny aliens here knew ways of how to collapse a turret imperceptibly. Appealing this square in any case was, alike the underground rooms of Suur-Kaleva.

After walking around the site once or twice more, the girl decided to leave it. She had been quite long on her journey, and Buzz might have returned. He could be proud of her, since she had gotten so much prey in such a small time. What Yoka had not even though was that it would take about two and half hours to promenade back. But used to day-long hunting trips, that meant nothing for her. And it was a warm summer day, so why bother? She was free. Free from the worries of the modern society.

But what the woman did not notice, was that something was staring at her from the middle of two trees. Something different from a cock-eyed fowl. Something covered in shades. As Yoka directed her gaits back towards the grassed path, the black figure slithered after her, silently lurking behind the thick underbrush.

"She was with _him_... and _he_ is here..." the murky figure scowled. A grate of teeth was heard somewhere from the dark bush where this unknown crouched. Unaware of anything, the Kalevan went on with her return journey. But her every stir, every move was recorded.

"_She _is definitely the one that was with _him_. No mistake. And this time I won't leave the chance unused... he will face his end. Sooner or later..."

-------

Whistling Buzz approached his house with his speeder. It was a calm afternoon, it had taken a bit longer with doing all the tasks than he had expected. But so what? Yoka had not called him; assumingly she had everything all right there. Beaming Lightyear thought about today's success. He had a brand new job. Not actually very far he had traipsed from the space ranger business, but was now employed in the city's ranger recruiting office. His assignments were to work as an informant, do paperwork that someone actually read, and to keep there and then some field practice. Perhaps a bit scattered labor, but he found it interesting. In addition, it paid well, and there was a Cosmo's Chili Burger automat in his office.

As being part-time work, he would need not to be too much away from home, but could share his precious time with his dearest. And next week she would start her evening school. There was an old professor living in the town that taught elementary English and further to immigrants and such. This a bit shabby-looking but skilled man called Remus Lunula had classes that gathered up a few times a week in the local evening institute. The Captain had briefly met him today, and explained the situation. According to the professor there was no problem although Yoka mastered just some very poor English. Just a couple of weeks ago a new group had been started and she would catch well up with the others.

There could have been other possibilities to quick-teach her, thought. Buzz nevertheless did not consider them quite profitable for her. The LGM's at Star Command had been developing a while sort of machine that bioelectronically manipulated the memory locations of brains. The "educand" was set in a chair, a low-frequency electromagnetic field was activated around his head or brain position, and a nanoinfodisk of the material that was supposed to be taught, was supplied for the machine. The data was shifted to the electromagnetic field. Thus, at least according to the _theory_, it was supposed to work so that the new information found its way to the person's neurons and synapses, and stayed there with all the old junk. But... there had been so much side-effects with this _Fact-O-Feeder_ that Buzz would recommend it to use only until when it was made fool-proof. Someone who had been given express training in ornithology, had several weeks thought he was a carrier pigeon. The insanity effect had vanished in time, but this man still sometimes tied letters with a string around his ankle, cooed, and fluttered his arms while going out. Some other individual who had been quick-handled with the galactic study of literature, long thought that he was on a mission to carry his wedding ring to be destroyed inside a distant volcano, so that the Great Evil would not get it into its hands. So... this means was not an option for Yoka. She was original enough already, and needed _no_ _more_ wacky characteristics.

Buzz was soon face to face with this existent uniqueness. As not being quite used to the flash-micro, his wife had decided to be sure that she was not doing anything stupid. A neat campfire had been built and lit on the foreyard, and an iron cauldron had been put above it to a stand. The woman had returned home before her owner, hungry as a pack of jackals. When the male stunned parked his hover speeder on the driveway, she merrily waved a hand, asking if he wanted to have some hot soup.

Half of the evening went clarifying what Kaon's _local laws_ said and prohibited. It was obvious that at some point Buzz had come across with the pile of dead animals in his garage. Yoka had hastily asked that maybe he would help her with the skinning, and putting the meat to hang into a dry place. He had gawked long at the immovable prey pile, so stunned that barely got a high-pitched squeak out of his mouth. The truth that she had done everything wrong again depressed her of course. It was not quite legal to hunt here with a crossbow, though Buzz would not blab on to any public authorities about this unfortunate mistake. After this, she would know not to do it again. Yet, nothing was against setting up a guarded fire on the yard. Buzz admitted that the soup done there tasted very delicious. She had smashed together a miscellaneous pile of foodstuff found from the 'winter closet' -as she used to call the fridge-, and succeeded to create quite an appetitive nosh out of them.

But the warm words considering the tisane were not enough to bring a smile back on her face for a few hours. No this, no that, that was not supposed to do, that was not allowed here. Then, what was? How could she have known? Once again was concluded that she needed time. And conceivably Buzz should look a bit more after her. At nightfall, Lightyear finally had clarified everything that had gone nuts today. A few teardrops had been needed, before she had believed that it would be all right.

Buzz took the enormous, steaming teacup in his hand. It was the suppertime. In the background, the holo-telly talked silently to the furniture. The living-room's decorating was almost finished, and the room appeared very cozy. Blue-white-green, clean and spacious was the atmosphere. A wide, soft-blue carpet covered the parquet, the round large window had alike-colored heavy curtains on its both sides. A transparent hovering table rode in the mid-floor air, whereas around it was a broad sofa and a few hover divans. Zurg grinned on the opposite wall with his big shiny teeth. Buzz' father would have been furious if his expensive portrait had not been put to ornament the living-room. This was almost just like last night; only that Mr. Lockhart's book was back in the shelf. The Captain had thought it better to let her calm down than to forcibly press her learning more weird things today. It was undeniably not that easy as he had reckoned at first. She seemed to have become more sensitive during the last weeks than what he had originally found her to be. Did the blues catch her more often, or was it just that he had not noticed it before? Though... they had met just such a small time ago, after all. No one had asked, if they wanted to be together in the first place... and still a few months ago Buzz had sworn that Star Command was his whole existence, not a family. But... that was then, now was now.

Her cup stood untouched on the table. The Indian was sitting next to him, but seemed to have sunken in her own bleak illusions. He shook her shoulder vaguely.

"Your tea is getting cold, Yoka."

"Oh, yes..." she winced and carried the cup at her lips.

"So... you were in the forest today?" he asked carefully, trying to draw her attention away from the dejection. 

"I was, yes..." she tasted the tea. Peculiar drink, but not as bad-tasting as the black muddy water these aliens called 'coffee'.

"The forest is... well, you have your Suur-Kaleva. And Kaon's got this. I guess every planet and city has its own fairy tales and sort of 'forbidden places'."

Her eyes rose. That was just what she had pondered earlier. The ruins she had come across. But before she had the opportunity to continue, Buzz smilingly looked at the ceiling, rambling on.

"Yeah... Nana Lightyear's bedtime stories. She told creepy things about those woods, and who knows if a part of them might really be true. One of the common stories here is, that the forest one day hid diabolically evil things, some sort of cult..." he lowered his voice into a dramatic hush in the end. "It was told that they kept a hidden grotto or fortress or something over there. Heh well... sort of remembering these things again, after tens of years. But what's funny is that actually most of the people living here avoid that forest, just like your people back in Kaleva had their prejudices." He cast an amused look on her. "Craters, dunno what they think there is. Maybe their grandmothers have really scared the living rockets out of them when they've been kids..."

Her mien was slightly more excited. Legends, she just loved legends and runes. "I saw what you meant. Ruins. An old path leaded me there."

He raised a brow. That was something new. He had never believed that there would actually exist such things. A nasty taste appeared on his palate. She had possibly been quite deep in the woods if encountering anything such, since nothing alike was in the very near grounds. At least he as a boy had not met anything but giant, mysterious trees when playing at the edge of the forest.

"You saw... what?" his goggle was a bit blank. And briefly she narrated about it, an eager tone in her voice hiding the sadness there had been still five minutes ago. He considered this thing rather weird, but was happy to see her brightening up. In some cases, she really resembled like an overgrown kid, as being so wild and anxious about some little detail.

"Well, we might go and see them some time, if you remember how to find them still. But umm... don't go too far next time when you..." But he stopped, with the impression he was going to say something very stupid. She was the last person to get lost in the woods, and that would have been his warning. Blushing to the thought that he as a skilled space ranger was a lot worse orienteerer than she, he told her to never mind. That made room for the second topic he had.

"Yoka... we might go to visit the town tomorrow. You've been all these days just almost jammed inside here, well... except today. We'd go shopping or something. Get you new clothes and things."

She was positively beaming at him. Seeing a whole town was something extraordinary for her. Though, the word 'shopping' did not quite unfold its mysteries. What were people supposed to do when they were _shopping_? Watch a huge row of blacksmiths tinkling with their sledges? She did not dare to ask, thinking she would just make a fool out of herself. Well, it would be tomorrow's riddle, then.

After a few hours the couple decided to slouch into their bedroom in the third floor. Buzz was yawning, whereas Yoka still felt odd to curl up to sleep in a bed that had no pelts, straw, or feathers as cushion.

The stairs clattered slightly. But behind the two sleepy backs, the backdoor's knob slowly twisted in its lock hole. Without making a noise, the door turned ajar, as if being pushed open by an invisible hand. It remained half-open for a while, though... nothing actually seemed to get in. But as it was closed somewhat later, it was evidently done from the inside.      

...to be continued...


	4. Weird stories in the shoe store

It was the deepest night in the Lightyear household. Owls hooted eerily outside, cicadas kept a buzzing chirr here and there... The two moons orbiting Morph huddled in the sky like two soulless eyes amidst a rim of pale stars. In the third floor, in a whitely decorated bedroom, the dwellers snoozed in their own empyreans. But if someone had initially tiptoed down the stairs and peeked in the living-room, his hackles would have evidently risen in the air for fright. In the quasi-shaded cabin, a black form stood in the middle floor, staring at something. Or... actually it was not quite standing, but hovering. There was a gap of a few inches between the carpet and those black robes that seemed to float in the air nearly by themselves. The shadow seemed to be extremely interested in the oil painting on the wall, because of a reason or another.

"Zoxedaszeĉ Zora Lightyear..." its low voice muttered in the dark. "Wonder who you are because of getting such a place on _his _wall..." That face was familiar-looking for the figure. It was the old parchment book in the stone chamber... there, there similar sharp brown eyes had goggled back from a picture of several hundred years old...

"Too bad it's only the looks... and the heck, I don't know even who you are. You are unimportant for me..." it scowled at the immovable portrait. "But if _he_ would have born to be like Jardaz, I might've allied with him instead... but now, it's the other way."

It left the living-room with a hushed swish coming from its jet-black robes.

"Now... I'll settle down and watch, for a while... I have time. Nothing but time. And the more I can torment you, my unbearable foe, the more I'll enjoy. To see you slowly falling down and lastly creeping in front of me...yes..."

The shadow glided towards the hall, leaving the main room's furniture to bathe in the moonlight.

-----------

In the morning, Buzz woke up to the irritating discord of the alarm clock. He was to drown it in the water glass beside it, but abruptly remembered that there was something planned to do for this free day. Shaking Yoka awake, he smirking told her to get prepared for the town tourney. She plainly shrieked with enthusiasm, bouncing with a hip-swing-up from the bed and almost ripping him up too. Oh, that childish craze...

Buzz went downstairs to make some breakfast, while the woman clattered in the bathroom. She had whisked a note in the air that she would get ready for this _extraordinary _happening. Chuckling the man creaked open the fridge's door, blinking then in a small surprise. Was there food missing from there or did he see just mirages? He clearly recalled the fridge _had_ been fuller during yesterday's suppertime.

"Hmh. Odd. Either I'm remembering false things or then one of us is a sleepwalker and a night eater." He snorted and arranged a pile of eatables on the kitchen table.

The digital timer ticked and tacked, and Lightyear was still alone in the galley. Women... once they got in a bathroom they just started lodging there, was it not so? The porridge he had made would start gathering fungus soon if no one was going to eat it. Shrugging he left the table, clambered up the stairs, and knocked the door of the notorious room.

"Yoka... still there? Your... breakfast's ready", he raised his tone. "Or actually was already an hour ago..." he added with a whisper.

"Me am comee-eng!" a yelp responded with the familiar snap of a wrist communicator getting locked around an arm.

Buzz was to drop his eyes as his wife ambivalently swayed out of the bathroom.

"Do you think I am now well enough dressed to walk honorably beside my owner?" she unsurely let her regard wander along the floor. Oh those Kalevan traditions and laws... over there, visiting another village or larger colony was a remarkable issue, and then men and women got dressed in their very best garments. Yoka of course followed what she had been taught over the decades. She had the heavily embroidered linen dress on, which Buzz had had made for her instead of the one he had torn to shreds. Possibly every single jewel, necklace, and armband the woman had ever possessed, were glimmering in big heaps around her neck, arms, and even ankles. A long patterned kerchief hid her hair under it, a wide corset-like belt was tied tightly around her waist. She resembled the same unsure maiden that had been standing beside her father's throne the day Buzz was brought in to Vainamoinen's tent by the angry warriors.

"Oh boy..." Lightyear tried gathering up his jaw from the floor. She looked very attractive in his eyes with that attire, but it was anything but an ideal leisure cloth for a little town-sightseeing. She definitely needed a new wardrobe. He went on removing a few details away from that jubilee costume. The headscarf could be left home, as well as the big knife that was hanging from the belt. The biggest and most rattling pendants could go too. A few fixes, and he cast a content grin at her from toes to head. Well... Yoka still looked quite eccentric, especially the wrist communicator disharmonized with the hand-made tinsel. Whereas Buzz had only simple jeans and a T-shirt on, she managed to look like a walking fancy goods shop beside him. But... love makes blind, so goes the old proverb.

It was a sunny, mildly warm morning. A refreshening waft of wind blew from the lakeside, fanning the air's dankness away. The couple emerged from their garden, aiming their toes towards the city itself. It was an ideal weather for promenading, so the flashy speeder was left in the garage. Yoka's bare feet followed somewhat stirring Buzz' sneakers. How on Jupiter she could walk on the sharp macadam with her sheer soles, he could not realize it. She actually happened to use shoes only while hunting, or during the soil frost time. 

Curious glances were shot at the couple when they reached the paved streets of the city. Yoka gaped at nearly every rock and roof, Buzz stomping proudly beside her and squeezing her hand. No wonder some locals stopped their ongoing and were left to stare after the mates. They looked rather ludicrous together, indeed. Not only was their striking skin color difference there, but then the height and width. Regarding tallness, Buzz was like some sort of dwarf beside her, but then again about two and half times wider than she with his massive chest and athletic shoulders. If the Captain had considered his friend Warp looking ridiculous with his very short wife, now it was his turn to receive amused leers. The city was silent, though. Perhaps it was due to the facts that most of the citizens were at work, the children at school and so on. Nevertheless, the more peace, the more comfortable it would be to lumber around.

For the Kalevan woman, this day was another adventure. She had never seen anything alike. These high stone wigwams that almost scratched the sky's belly... flying wagons whizzing occasionally along the streets... oddly colored creatures turning their heads to look at her. Happy, excited were her emotions, but also so insecure. Every time something odd passed by her view, her hand's grasp tightened up in his one, looking for assurance. But his serene blue eyes told there was nothing to be afraid of.

They spent a good amount of time by just trotting along the avenues. Buzz could play a know-it-all tour guide. He blabbered on about every lane and building that was bypassed, about what he had done here and there tens of years ago... how he had during one rainy day found a huge swarm of big slugs on that one particular backstreet and brought them home to swim in his father's bathtub... Her ears literally devoured his every sentence. It was so exhilarating to see all these finely-decorated big teepees, climb up to a hill and watch the morning-misty town spread below the vast blue sky...

Soon it became also clear for Yoka-hanen what 'shopping' meant. Buzz was not pushing her into some shabby supermarkets, but led her inside elegant boutiques. There was a vast assortment of those both around the marketplace and the main street. Those along the major road had small display windows that peeked a bit shyly out from the round holes of an ancient fortification. Centuries ago it inconclusively had tried surrounding the castle from the mainland's direction, but in a way had failed and just stood there rather pathetically with no real use. So it had been turned to a spacey market hall, and a promenade built inside the dry moat.

Lightyear experienced soon that his wife was not keen on every single garment, but was quite a nitpicker what it came to colors and materials. But he had used to this kind of cranky opinions, while shopping with his farcical father. Yoka however discontent kept tossing heaps of clothes aside, telling that they were either too boring or that she detested the color. At least one shopkeeper almost threw them out because of her surly plucking of things. Well... this particular store sold approximately only pink frilly dresses and some blinky magenta ruffles, so it had been a mistake to enter that in the first place.

But when the couple slinked inside a petty cellar boutique selling Oriental trappings and other exotic knickknacks, Yoka squealed with delight and bounced in to ransack every shelf and stand. She put up a small mannequin show, asking her mate what would pass and what she could take. Buzz became... rather gagged. He just ogled at her his oculars wide with a bit baffled mien on his face, succeeding to look at first like a dizzy eagle owl that had zoomed against a wall. He could have watched her waltzing there for hours. His Yoka... in his heart, the Captain felt some kind of triumphant sense of possessing. Weird, odd it was... never had such a sensation crept along his spine before because of anyone else. He descended inside his illusions, pondering again how his life had changed. And then, snap, the bitter memories from Kaleva slithered to haunt him. Why had he let himself fall back in the dark side? What if... he had never been able to return? What would he be now? A horrible idea. From those notions he winced back to reality. She... her merit... and he _owned_ her... He could sense her startling lightly at least once as the man so intensively inspected her every single even agile gesture. If Buzz had now taken a mirror and seen his own burning gaze, he would have recoiled too.

Finally, the shop's salesgirl slammed a parsec-long bill in his hand and lent him a small hover-case where the boxes and parcels could be piled. The store had been a bonanza for the Kalevan, what came to attires and bric-a-brac. If the male had tried adventuring with carrying all those things alone, he would have fallen to the first open manhole because of not seeing forwards behind the mountain of purchases. But Buzz was also happy that his girl had found what she wanted. The next speculation: shoes. 

Kaon had only a few shoe stores, and the space ranger aimed his nose towards his haunt. _Der__ knarrende Stiefel_ was the oldest still-working shop in the town, having cobbler services, and shelves filled with footwear continuing far, far inside the rocky basement. Buzz and Yoka descended the bended stone steps down, and creaked a round, battered door open. It was silent even here. Only some fat matron sat in a corner, trying to fit pumps -several sizes too small- in her enormous plump feet.

Lightyear sat down, and let his lady choose what she wanted. She was indeed again lost in this jungle of weird shapes, but loaded her arms full of various models and started trying them on.

"Meh can't believe meh eyes! It's the li'l Buzz Lightyear back in Kaon!" a hearty yelp came from behind the Captain. He turned surprised about, and was nose to nose with a tall, porky, mid-aged man who had a big, shaggy, grizzled beard and a bit unkempt hair. A wide smile drew also Buzz' mouth from ear to ear.

"Rhodium Jay Hadron! Sweet mother of Venus! Must've been at least fifteen years!"

The men shook their hands warmly, both asking perhaps a gazillion news at the same time. Rhodium was one of Buzz' family acquaintances from his childhood, and had already been long working in this same shoe store when the young cadet Lightyear had left to The Space Ranger Academy. His changed face was of course familiar for the shoe seller from the uncountable newspapers and praise articles beyond years. Yet...who had been able to expect that a boy from this little town would become the galaxy's most famous space ranger?

Rhodium had been the village's unofficial databank as long as anyone could remember. His brains were full of secondary, informal information almost about everything. It was said that he knew exactly everyone's shoe size in the town, and that none kind of rumor could be hidden from his over-alert ears. And during sixty-five years of existence all kinds of gossip-birds had had time to build their nests inside his scull. Of course he was aware too that Buzz had moved recently in town, but had just not succeeded to come across him yet.

"And this charmin'... ehh... _tall_ lady is...?" Hadron pointed at Yoka, who sat on a chair beside her man, scrutinizing the range footwear models. Initially she held a high-heeled shoe in her hand, and seemingly could not determine for what purpose the item actually was made. If it was a shoe, how did anyone balance herself with a thing like this? Well, it was too peculiar to be a goblet either, so it had to be footwear.

Buzz flushed slightly. It always felt a bit odd for him to start telling about _her_. The words were tangling up on his tongue, but he succeeded to sing out some kind of story about his space odyssey two-thousand and one.

"Yeh lucky son... the heck I'd be the luckiest man on Morph if someone gave me a pretty madam just like that..." the salesman -who was an aged bachelor himself- sighed to Buzz, whose cheeks were initially deep crimson. 

Next the things went on forwards with miscellaneous small talk, about how the lives here and there had turned out to be. The old longcase clock in the corner ticked on, minutes flying onwards.

"It's been quiet... rather peaceful... no real threats since Zurg died..." the shopkeeper's stare was distant. "Too bad 'ey took yer dad like that... still remember the news almos' thirty years ago, how he'd disappear and ev'rything... Dunno what's wrong with the Lightyears, they've gone so many missing during the centuries. Mebbe it's a curse or sumthin..."

Buzz had trouble to set his words right. "Umm... my dad's all right, actually. Helped me with the moving and all", he mumbled, hoping hard that the discussion would not get glued on Zora. The truth of his father being alive had to be told, though. The izzard-admirer might pop in to the city any time, and he would be instantly connected to Buzz because of his surprisingly similar looks. Nonetheless... how was the Captain going to chatter about the issue of Zurg? The passing seconds had turned very awkward. 

Rhodium had a hard time to collect his jaw from his toeline. Even the local tittle-tattle specialist did _not_ know this fact. "Wot...?" His eyes were just plain blank. "Yer... ye mean... Ambassador Lightyear is... w-wot happened? Did that terrible evil emperor keep 'im as a prisoner or sumthin' during all these years?"

The customer left a small sigh of relief. Now there was a loophole to escape this nasty topic.

"Craters well yeah... I'd say so. Um well he... doesn't like to talk about it much", he shuffled. It was not a lie; Zoxedaszeĉ had been a _prisoner, _the prisoner of the dark side. The seller was about to ask some more, but Buzz had caught interest in his last mutters. This man seemed to know a lot more about the Lightyear family than the scion himself. No one ever talked about the past things while he had been lodging around chez his variety of relatives as a child. The least of all the Urksleys. They had evidently hated everything that rolled around the ambassador family. And... actually, what came to Zurg, he was oddly silent too. As if he did not know or _want to know_ the things either. 

"Umm can I ask... what did you mean with people getting missing?" he scratched his hair. Hopingly Hadron would not start playing mute.

But for the Captain's relief, the male in front of him did not show evidence of becoming a waxwork. He just shrugged, admitting that he did not know much but only some crumbs. "Dunno... it's weird ye know. They jus' disappear more often than the others... who knows where. The last one wuz sum'one called... Mizar... think that wuz 'is forename. Was some of yer grandfather's distant relatives, Lightyear anyways. A fine young man, went to work to Trade World a bit before yer father got married..." a sad glint was in the shopkeeper's eyes. He recalled the tragedies like it had been yesterday. Buzz listened, his gawp fixed on him. Never even heard about such a person. Why was it that no one told him nothing? The space ranger barely knew his own mother. Zoxedaszeĉ might give a grunt or two about any other issue, but Adi-Gaia Ganymede was the line of silence. Perhaps the memories of her were so painful for the old emperor, that he concealed the misty mementos inside his chest for eternities now.

Whereas Rhodium would have wanted to snoop into the deepest waters concerning Zora, Buzz stiff-necked kept the road directed to the case of lost relatives. "But what happened then? What happened to Mizar?" he inquired.

Mr. Hadron curled a shaggy lock of beard around his index, looking at the ceiling. "He... jus' vanished. A year afta yer father went... well... wherever _he_ went then. But like I said, there's been cases afta cases durin' the centuries." His glance was back at Buzz, full of elfishness. "I think the most curious thing wuz with two brothers 'bout two hundred an' fifty years ago..."

The Captain's pupils stagnated. More mysteries? What an interesting shoe-shopping tour this had appeared to be!

"I don't rememba the names any more... but they were rich, influential, the younger one owned half of Kaon's lands. Had a family too. An' just one night... the men didn't return, wherever they were then. Jus' got lost an' all. The younger one's missus raised 'er kids alone afta it. Though... it's told that _that night_ they were lost, wuz the night of sorrow and terror in Kaon..." he hushed his voice very low so that no one else present would hear. "It's sort of unwritten history. Yeh know they don't put it all on paper... I dunno much 'bout it either but jus' heard. People just wanted to forget it and deny it never existed..."

Buzz' ear was almost an inch distance from Rhodium's mouth. The old man kept whispering so timidly that it was barely audible.

"Existed _what_?" Lightyear scowled.

"The cult of _Nex__ Crucio_..." the seller's voice evidently trembled. "They say it never wuz there, but it _was_... took hundreds of sacrificial deaths they say. It..." But the statement fell into nothingness. The both men winced, as a loud thud was heard beside them. Yoka had fallen on the floor and was cursing something in Sivakka, a high-heeled pump lounging in the floor next to her, her second foot still inside the other one. Her mate flew to help her up, asking bewildered what had happened. It was not a big enigma, though. Although being quite an acrobat, the woman had never ever walked with five-inch-high stiletto heels. As used to manly, long strides, a single one of those had caused her to break the shoe's delicate heel and made her trip over while trying to lump along with the tricky footwear. Perhaps those kinds of shoes were not quite ideal for Yoka-hanen.

"Ahh now let's get you up..." he with scarlet cheeks tried dragging the girl up, who could have succeeded to do that better alone. Another thing to teach to her. Pumps were not made for somersaults, or leaps, or meant for hunting boots.

"Uhh how much do I owe?" the man picked up the broken item and passed it to the salesman.

"Nah that's alright. Must've been a second-rate product 'nyways..." Hadron inspected it, tossing it then over his wide shoulder. "Lessee... must've got sumthin better in this store for yer lovely lady. Sneakers, or we got nice cowgirl boots 'ere too..." Rhodium mumbled on, and led the Lightyears towards the inner compartments of the shop. 

A few hours later all the shoppings were done, and the couple could promenade back home. Yoka was like some sort of newborn rainbow with all her jubilant happiness. Today had been one of the most exciting diurnals of her narrow life. A lot more enthralling than visiting Suur-Kaleva, or riding for the first time with a Thunderbird speeder. The things the locals took granted were all amazement, dazzle, bewilderment for her. Merely the woman resembled a little girl who had spent a day in Disneyland, babbling about everything she had experienced, all and all over again. Lightyear's hearty smile followed her enthusiastic yelps, his heart filled with bliss. He had succeeded to make her happy with such small things... and soothe away the murky thoughts of failure from her sore emotions.

Though... somehow Buzz did not feel comfortable to arrive back home today. He felt as if someone was constantly watching at him... and it definitely had nothing to do with the irksome pigeons in the nearby tree. And what was it with the things he had heard from Rhodium...? During the evening tea they came all back in his mind in big dollops. There _was_ something weird with his family, he understood it suddenly after tens of years of haze. Things no one talked about... missing people... what was the reason for all this mist? Buzz possibly could not comprehend.

...to be continued...


	5. Dark apparitions

A few days went on like riding with silver-lined clouds. No worry in sight, no need for fright... Excluding that Buzz had the almost constant, irritating feeling of being scrutinized. The sensation vanished conversely periodically, allowing again the millstone of suspicion being lifted off from his shoulders.

It was the beginning of a new week. Buzz' noveau work would gradually start getting regular, as well as Yoka would enter her ever-first English lessons. The few previous days had been successful with learning the alphabet by heart. It still caused a bit difficulty to recognize all those cranky letters, but fast those had gotten cemented in her head. And... today evening, ultimately, she would step in to the evening classes. Enthusiastic like a deep-rooted swot waiting for the term to start, Yoka had been all day bouncing around the house, thinking about the sheer joy of learning. A few hours ago Buzz had gone to work, the woman was alone in the abode.

She was slouching up the stairs in her thoughts. "I will be going to school today!" Over and over again she spun the idea in her mind, chuckling at it, grinning at it, finding it so pleasing. With the aid of Proud Crescent she was going to gain knowledge of things even the greatest _viisaat_ in Kaleva could not master! Provided that she would learn this Gibberish called English at first.

She had almost reached the third floor's stairhead, when she heard odd creaks coming from her left side. It could not be quite determined what it was, perhaps an open window clattered in the wind. The staircase ended up to a medium corridor that had a joint towards the left, most of its scenery being hidden behind a big bushy pot plant. She traipsed by the domestic weed, and saw a doorway slightly open in the rear end of the hallway. The noises emerged from there. But the sight got her somewhat thunderstruck, as she pushed the gateway more aside.

_"Buzz?"_

There was a man in the chamber, standing at an open clothes closet, whose drawers were all pulled open. The person swung himself around drastically as hearing her voice. He held a crimson pullover in his hands, whereas a huge amount of the closet's soft inners lay on the floor in a lump. In a picosecond, the surprise left him, and a wide grin responded to her.

"Buzz? How yu be in home I think yu... in work?" Yoka spread her arms. Well, the male in front of her looked just like her mate. The usual blue jeans and an orange short-sleeved shirt on. But why was he here? And how? She had seen him leaving a few hours ago, and not coming yet back.

The man did not respond, but put his hands on hips, evaluating her from toes to crown with an odd grimace drawing his black whiskers up. Yoka expressed sheer confusion. His eyes... they had an unknown, cold glint in them. Behind the shallow blueness hid something else she had not confronted before. Not even in Kaleva, the night when he had destroyed half of her property. Not even then his regard had appeared that way.

"I see yu no come how...?" she tried another question. The target remained furthermore quiet, just somehow sneering. And then... down there, the doorbell tinkled. She cast a last leer on him, and left. It was usually she who opened the door, so it was a reflex of some sort to rush downstairs.

It was the postman. He had some book packet with him that did not fit inside the mailbox. It consisted of those paperbacks that Buzz had ordered for Yoka, to aid her studies. In these modern times, aliens were keener on using holographic books, but Buzz was Buzz, he had thought that physical paper with big, clear letters stamped on it was more comfortable for his girl. 

It took around two minutes to accomplish the things with the mail carrier. After the sliding door was neatly shut in its frames, Yoka decided to get back upstairs and see, what was going on there now. Buzz was acting really outlandishly today. She rewinded the morning's hullabaloo in her synapses. The result was a clear image of Lightyear getting in his car and shooting off. Yet, this time she was going to get the answer out of him, more determined as she was initially. The same door was pushed open again... but what! The cabin was empty. The closet was neatly made, as if no-one had ever even opened it.

She swayed on her spot, flapping her eyes, looking like an idiot. Where had he gone? The Kalevan opened the wardrobe... every garment was there, nicely folded to tidy little piles. Shrugging, she went through the third floor cabinets, then the middle floor's ones, then the halls downstairs... not the pettiest glimpse of the man. As the last corner was swept by her aghast gaze, she collapsed to sit on the living-room sofa. Holding her temples, she tried gathering her mixed thoughts up. _What_ had she just seen? A phantom? No, there were no such things as ghosts even existing. But there it had been, sneering at her, rummaging the closet. Or... had she really imagined the whole thing?

Yoka set her lay on her back in the arms of the soft cushions. Perhaps it was better just to forget the whole thing, though it still brought slimy worms of fright wriggling down her spine. Maybe she was a bit burnout or something... had experienced this labyrinth of uncanny worlds in big lumps, had not yet used to almost anything. And there, she fell asleep, snoozing a prolonged afternoon nap, until she felt through the fog of dreams being shaken awake.

It was Buzz, who stood beside the sofa. Briefcase in his hand, a work uniform on, obviously had just dashed home from the job office. And not a sight left from the weird mock she had seen in her too-realistic mirage -or whatever it was then. The familiar mild smile was back, together with an amused notion that she should get ready for Professor Lunula's classes.

She decided not to mention anything about the happenings to him. And besides, what would she say, since not being even sure if it had been real or not...   

---------

The next day dawned, being again a free diurnal. No work, no toiling. In addition, Yoka had mostly forgotten the issue of yesterday. She had enjoyed the English classes so much last night, that already that had wiped all the comfortless sentiments away. Zurg had earlier the same week invited Buzz to visit him today on Capital Planet and encouraged to bring Yoka along. Warp's family would be also there, and thus they all could change news and have some fun along with a good lunch. Team Nova, however, would not appear, since having a hard-scheduled patrol day. That was of course a pity, but Commander Nebula had become stricter with all the work orders. 

Thus, in the morning twilight, the Lightyears switched on to space gear, and slinked inside the Captain's vacuum-resistant speeder. The Kalevan would get her first glimpse of the teeming Alliance Core from the bird's eye view. Nonetheless the purpose of the trip was not at all to be any sightseeing of the planet, just to go and zoom towards Zora's premises.

Around the midday UGT, Buzz' speeder reached the snob-district of Capital Planet. Yoka had still her nose glued onto the vehicle window, and did not much care about what the man was explaining about the curiosity called Zurg. And she did not even understand what 'weird' there was in the emperor's house, since all these buildings appeared extremely bizarre for her anyway. So what, if there was a pair of large horns on the roof, that a little grub dressed in a purple z-patterned tuxedo came politely to open the front door... or that the huge hall (having a quasi-Gothic crimson touch of decoration) was full of paintings of Zora Lightyear, at least one of them being those modern holo-ones that also winked and waved when someone walked by. As the couple walked along the high, lustrous arcade leaded by the enthusiastic beetle, the girl just kept marveling everything her trap wide open. Buzz beside her, scowled and muttered something about Warp possibly being responsible of this new fashion wave of decorating everything with one's own face on it.

Through what seemed like miles of galleries, all cramped very poorly-organized inside this labyrinthine house, the mates finally arrived to a dimly lit sumptuous dining room. There was a high table full of silver plates, supercharged with dozens of deliciously aromatic dishes. Well, there the bird of ill omen was too with his shortie beloved, his slightly maverick kid having her own adventures in the background. While Ay'noh was with good speed nipping petals off from purple tulips stuffed in a horned vase, Mariañ explained something overzealously to Zarah about Victorian era's crinolines and bonnets. The redhead yawned deep during Mrs. Lightyear's every other sentence and was obviously nearly dying to boredom. One more minute, and she would have snored standing.

Gradually everyone set themselves around the table. Half an hour was proceeded with all kinds of formalities, and scolded Ay'noh circa gazillion times not to ruin the host's houseplants. This was also the first occasion when Zarah and Yoka actually shook hands. The Kalevan had for a long time had the false impression that she was Sininen's -id est Mira's- handmaid. Progressively the bias had vanished as seeing Choi more frequently, the company of the blue redhead replaced by that other blue oddity who always managed to look like a pinstripe gangster equipped with a huge lump of futile junk metal. 

The discussion rose and fell, going through lands and ditches. Everything was rather calm, until the topic started handling Ay'noh, and by that, children in overall.

Zurg picked up a boiled plum with his fork, scrutinizing it in the mid-air. "Yes, indeed... we have been thinking of getting you a little tiny wee sister or brother, Buzzy Boy..."

The Captain tinkled with his cutlery, as if not comprehending what he had heard. Then, zap. _What?_ His eyes flew wide, and the food spurted out from his mouth.

"E...Excuse m--me...? _WHAT_?" he stared at the goofy emperor.

Casually his father repeated the sentence, causing the young surgeon to giggle a girlish 'tee-hee-hee'.

Lightyear was flabbergasted. He _had_ heard it right. No... this was getting too crazy. "But father... you... you... I mean... you can't, it's absurd!" he spread his arm in the air, so that Warp beside him had to duck in order to hinder Buzz' knuckles not knocking him out. "Look, dad, I'm getting towards my forties here. Now what would people think..."

"They shall think what they think. Some birk-pathetic color-senseless pigeonbrains think that purple is an ugly color, and so on and so forth." Zurg en passant whisked his fingers, totally ignoring his son's sharp comment about the ages. "In case we get a boy, I have already a dandy name for the wee one." He rubbed his hands together complacent. "Zoxezarzjah Zeemann Lightyear... ahh, what a gloo-oorious combination of izzards! Mohaha!"

"Oh craters..." Buzz smeared his face against his palm. That should have been expected. "Of course it would be something like _Zoxezoinks__ Zeta-Izzard Lightyear_... Sweet mother of Venus my father's sometimes so crazy!" he grated his teeth, cursing to himself under the shelter of his hand so that no one else heard. However, now he wanted to direct the discussion to somewhere else. A little question mark had popped along the way in his mind. What was the thing with these weird names anyway? Zora's father's forename was Zoxekov, and again there was this _Zoxe-blahblahblah_ appearing.

"Ahh umm... may I ask..." Buzz cleared his throat trying to get the hot shimmer off his cheeks, "What's this thing to put the names to begin with Zoxe? Does it have a meaning?"

"Oo yes..." the host grinned, tapping his long fingers together, "It is a tradition. And a marvelous, glorious way to cherish the charming, graceful shape and form of zeta. From the abysses of ancient years, the Lightyear family has given the prefix 'Zoxe' to the names of the firstborn sons. Though..." Zurg stopped to mumble something to himself, and the space ranger saw a dark shade of pain flickering a passing moment in the old man's eyes. "Your mother wanted... you to have a simple name. So we..." He coughed again, suffocating the evident sudden trembling of his voice, "...we decided to name you _Buzz_. But otherwise you would have become _Zoxezarethan Zereth-Shahar Zaccur Lightyear_."

Lightyear produced something that sounder like a combination between 'oink' and 'cock-a-doodle-doo'. His visage flew redder than Warp's burgundy shirt, and he soon found himself slamming his palm again against his face. Chuckling and giggling was heard around him, Mariañ giving a small 'tirsk' beside her husband.

The host rambled on however like nothing had occurred. "But here we can again revive the dinky splendor of this heritage. Since it shall be my Smoopsiepoo's first tot, we can add the 'Zoxe' in the name, if it shall happen to be a tiny teensy weensy boy. But these are just plans for now, it possibly still shall take years before Buzzy Boy gets a dandy diminutive sibling."

Buzz sat quiet, ashamed, gradually getting absorbed in his own thoughts. He heard the others drone around them, like some distant beehive. His father _was_ silly. Who would even consider of getting more children at that age? A few years and Zora would be in his sixties. Though... humans lived longer these days, he pondered. Had he not just heard about some of the LGM lab's new biological age-prolonging medics? His father might well reach the age of two hundred years, if living healthily and taking advantage of those modern inventions. But still... still Buzz found the issue rather stupid. And that name _he_ was supposed to be given to... Lightyear discovered himself shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the same time.

Through all kinds of association-chains, his tiny brains had cooked up also other kinds of conceptions during this brooding. Abruptly Rhodium Hadron's weird tales about his family had popped up from his subconscious. Why not to ask his father about them, here and now? Eagerness unexpectedly rose up to his nose, as he recalled this relative called Mizar. Zoxedaszeĉ must have known something about him, since this unknown kindred had lived in Kaon around the times of the emperor's youth. So Buzz spruced himself up, and slammed,

"Dad, ahemm... I heard previously about this person called... aa... Mizar Lightyear", he started a bit haltingly. "You know anything about him?"

Zurg stopped his munching, as if been shot with a thunderbolt. He waned livid, and was to swallow his fork. "Agagaga--- agghh--- whh--- Want more d--dessert, Buzz?" he stammered something, grabbing a huge bowl of boysenberries and dumped it on the ranger's plate, so that half of the berries got dropped onto the floor and started rolling around.

The Captain leered at his brimful plate and his gulping father in turn. What the blazes was this? Zurg had also rapidly changed the theme of speech, now nervously twaddling something on about fine-odor aftershave lotions with Warp.

"Dad, I didn't want dessert, thanks, I had it already here. I just wanted to ask if you know anything about Mizar Lightyear? I think you do, dad. Who was he?" he repeated the query, sounding firmer.

"We... we shall discuss it some other time, Buzz", came the jumpy response. The old man's cheeks had not regained their healthy color back.

Nevertheless, Buzz' stubbornness had grown to its limits. Again this hiding of things! He had had enough of it during the last few tens of years. Again, again people refused to tell. He had asked just a simple question, what was the trouble of telling him at least a fragment of knowledge? He sensed that Zurg was treating him like a five-year-old who could not bear to hear any secrets. What was there so shocking about Mizar or in overall about the Lightyears that he was not allowed to learn it?

"Father, what's the point?" he tapped the table with a finger, shooting a stern look at his parent. "I mean you can go on telling about what was supposed to be my name and... ahh... all sorts of things like that. Dad, I just _asked_ who this Mizar guy was, nothing more."

"Buzz. Not now." Zurg's bushy brows had crumpled deep. Also, a nasty silence had fallen above the room. All the guests sat timid, peering at each other. The atmosphere had turned tense. So could the host's son also sense it, blushing lightly.

"Ahh ok then, I'll... okay, okay." An exhale fled his throat. What a disappointment. But he would not leave it to this, but wait for a suitable occasion to ask the thing again.

"Very well then", Zora's accent remained formal. "Shall we turn to the coffee, then? Grubs!" A click of fingers, and a cheerful pack of beetles dashed to clean the table.

An hour fluttered by, the climate being jovial furthermore. The party had tapped inside a lounge salon. It had soft hovering sofas, small tables to set the coffee-cups on them, and a large holoscreen on one wall for watching movies or relevant entertainment. The guests conversed without much noise. Buzz, however, was sulky, buried in his own illusions. His father was treating him like some brat. Oh, if only he could get an opportunity _once_ to ask what he wanted. And also get decent replies. Yet out of the blue, there seemed to be a chance, as his lazy eyes wandered across the spacey chamber, making some remarks. Zurg had stood up, and was entering a side room on the opposite of him. The nosy man put his cup down, and traipsed towards the target. The emperor's sleeve was soon yanked by him.

"Father. I'm not going to stand this silence any longer. Why won't you tell me? I'm a grown-up man, not a kid any more, you don't need to _protect_ me from anything if that's what you're trying to do", the ranger's voice blurted out irritated.

Zora stopped, casting a piercing brown look down at his much shorter scion. "You do not want to hear, Buzz." His tone was severe and hushed.

"So, you _know_! At first I thought you didn't know about Mizar, but at least now I see that you _do_!" the younger male got only more excited about his grumpy comment. "And I'm going to find out. I _want_ to hear. Too long I've been kept in some sort of diabolic dark barrel of evil and ignored that I, I exist too and I have a right to know!" the Captain's angry words began pouring excessively over. He wanted information, and he would get it with any means possible. "You're so stubborn, you never tell me anything! You..."

But he never finished his bellow. Zurg's pupils flamed, and a loud bass roar left deep from his lungs. "_Do NOT shout at your father, you misbehaved child!_" He drew a long, noisy inhale through his nostrils, and was left to stare at Buzz with a furious mien, his whole huge being shaking and hairy fists clenched. That bluster would have won even an alpenhorn in effect. Or so at least the ranger looked like, quivering all over with fright, cheeks crimson.

"S---sorry, f--fathhher...!" he left high-pitched girlish pipe. Behind him, in the open doorway, the salon's population stood tomb-silent as well, just glaring at the scenery. The background however made the beetle-browed khan somewhat calm down.

"Erm... Excuse me." He shook some imaginary dust off his glossy purple sleeve. "My son is acting very childish. I shall discuss some serious matters of behaving with my son now. I shall be back in a moment, enjoy more plum tea and sugared violets."  

The zeta-admirer pulled the heavy sliding door shut that separated the two bowers. The men were left now face to face. Zurg's wrinkly regard was icy, almost merciless, yet very mixed. As if feelings of extreme sorrow, hatred, and fear were waging wars inside his heart and none of them seemed to win. He still took heavy breaths but was gradually chilling out.

Buzz, though afraid of a second tantrum, stood determined. This time he would _not_ give up, how much difficulty it would ever cause then. Crossing his arms across his chest, he sat down onto a chair, remaining in a straight pose. "Father, I won't leave until you tell me."

"Very well... if you still pathetically refuse to understand that I _do not_ want to dig this up from the deepest abysses of my mind... Young fool. If I were you, I would not fight against someone far more experienced..." Zora snarled, clenching and opening his fists repeatedly. He seemed gaining a good amount of more nervousness as the nanoseconds passed. Swerving around the chamber's small floor, he looked as though not knowing where to start, or what to groan next. "You should see that this is extremely painful for me, a-and I would wish to forget."

Buzz blinked. Painful? He had made just a simple, blameless question. What so much painful could be related to Mizar that dad forcibly wanted to push it in nothingness? Who was that dude anyways? Mr. Hadron had announced that he had been a fine young man, and gone to work to Trade World. Though... Zoxedaszeĉ had waned then just like that, so suddenly... but still the descendant could not behold what was coming. And... after half an hour he truly wished he had never asked.

Ultimately Zurg sat down, as the Captain had responded that he wanted to hear. Hear everything from the beginning on. Oh, the curious mind... Not several minutes passed, and Lightyear's jaw hung open in the mid-air. In the shaded cabin, the royal's raving had turned to choked hushes, as he went on with a little nauseous story about this vanished relative. Mizar, indeed, had lived and worked on Trade World his time... until one day had been tempted to join a powerful mafia. Easy money, little crimes, and once, a very well-paying assignment. A sack of uni-bucks would wait the young man and a few of his fellows, if they would just finish off some unimportant persons... persons related to one talebearer ambassador, who had escorted many of the same mafia's most influential headmembers into PC-7. A blue-eyed hero's prize, indeed. So, just go and snap some lives off, go and kill Adi-Gaia Lightyear and her son. 

At this point, the first tears appeared in Zora's misty-turned eyes.

"They... together with Mizar, gave your mother no mercy. All was my fault, I never should have left her unguarded like that... Sh-she lived on Morph, in Kaon, with you, while I worked on Capital Planet. Then, one night... the murderers sneaked inside... and... p-p-put h...her... in...p-p-pieces..." he buried his face in his hands, trying to wipe the abrupt, fast-rolling tears away. Somehow succeeding, he continued. "Of course you cannot remember it. You were safe in your cradle, sleeping... and that was your only luck. Only one pathetic whimper, and you would have gone too. They never found you since you stayed quiet." The Emperor scowled at his son opposite to him, who was white like a ghost.

"In any case..." he went on, "Mizar was one of those who escaped when my Master, Emperor Zidár, attacked that mafia's hideout years later. I was the pawn of the dark side, then... had become the Evil Emperor's apprentice, as I have told you. Zidár had promised me he would take the revenge in his hands... he assured me that no one of those damned that had killed or had planned to kill Adi and you, would get away. And I, stupid naïve lack-wit, listened to him... rubbed my hands together in satisfaction to see them all die... those, who had taken Adi away from me... But later on it appeared, that Zidár had _not_ caught them all. There had been more... and I plotted fiercely revenge against them."

Buzz, perching on his small chair, had been thrown to a mental Tartarus. His whole being had frozen to listen to this shocking history that was in most parts unknown for him. His mother... he had known she was murdered. But that _this way_... cold flames of pain gushed his heart. And through the veil of haze, he heard his father continuing.

"...Zidár died, I took the throne. Pathetic me, the slave of the dark side... A year passed, and my spies at Trade World had finally napped the very last members of the mafia. Mizar was among them. In time, they were brought to Planet Z. In the dark dungeons... they... were kept... tormented..." Emotional exhaustion started taking over the old man. But stammering he still went on, although feeling his heart jamming in his throat, and a great pain scorching his lungs with every inhale.

"I... k-killed... Mi...zar... with my... own... hands... I heard his last, pitiful cry echoing long in my ears..." Zurg stared at one spot in the wall, eyes glazed, face cadaverous. Obviously everything was repeated in front of his vision, the deadly scene crawling into view from the blackest caverns of his mind... forcing him to experience it all over again.

Bang, bang, bang, the syllables hit hard Buzz on the head. He could not listen to this any more. Zora's mutter had turned to violent sobbing and yelling. Hands over his face, the whole man trembled as if he was to explode. "_I killed him... He begged for mercy, and I did not listen! I only laughed at his misery! And then... the last cry, the last cry... I still can hear it, in my ears... even now... What did I do to him, what did I do to them? What did they do to_ _HER_? WHY..." his voice had risen up to falsetto. The Emperor had removed the hands from his face, which looked just hideous. Paler than a scull it had turned, his brown eyes having an ill, almost insane gleam in them.

Lightyear hardly ever had met his father looking like that. He had bounced already off his chair, rushing now towards the panting and crying male. "D-Dad! Stop it! Stop it now!" he shrieked, grabbed his hands in his owns, ceasing the monologue. "Please stop it! Please, father! I never should have asked, I'm so sorry I caused you this... I didn't understand..." Still squeezing Zurg's chapped hands, he stared deep in his terrified pupils. Oh why had he asked? That usually half-ludicrous appearance of his parent hid ghastly secrets inside itself. Zora could not stop his weeping, but went on sobbing about how much he regretted his crimes.

The son's gawk gradually turned dull, as perching there furthermore uncountable amount of minutes, holding his father's hands.  His terrified mind could not process this all in one moment. Lightyears killing other Lightyears... his mother, murdered... By his own kindred? And during the following night, these chaotic images and tales would turn into an excruciating nightmare, putting him to bathe in cold sweat.

       

...to be continued...


	6. In Memoriam

-------------Two days later, Star Command HQ--------------

Yawning Buzz traipsed on the heels of a droning and snapping small crowd, along a white, wide corridor. Some Alliance's government members were visiting the Base. A whole pack of those self-confident dullards walking their noses pointing upwards, Lightyear thought. No wonder they kept every now and then stumbling with the hems of their long politician's robes, since having their eyes wryly leering at the patterns of the ceiling. The Ministry of the Intergalactic Security, the Department of Regulation and Misusage of Fossil Fuels had some dispute about the small oil tanks the Base had stored in its belly. Should they be removed or controlled or blahblahblah... _jabberjabberblabber_... the humdrum bicker turned to fuzz in the Captain's ears.

He did not even understand why he was called here in the middle of his normal workday. Perhaps the Commander wanted support or something, yet Lightyear had not uttered even half an alphabet during the sojourn here. Regularly by this time, he would be zipping back home, whistling freely in his speeder. But now, he had to gather mildew and get mummified here?

He yawned again, deeper. Buzz had not slept well since the happenings two days ago. The previous two nights had been a tumult of obscure nightmares. He was still horrified about the creepy piece of history Zurg had shed. Cries, darkness, laments, tied together with thistles and smoke... those were his somnus. The weirdest thing in his muddled nocturnal visions had been a very blurry image of a young woman that had lingered there the both nights, coming back over and over again. The Captain had no idea who she was, though there was something distantly familiar in her being. It did nothing else but the same little fidgeting movement, curled a lock of her hair around her finger, and wiped it behind the ear. After doing this, the illusion either replayed the whole thing or vanished. Then, another moment Buzz was back on Planet Z, his wounded father lying on the floor, him squeezing the loose Zurg helmet in his perspiring hands. Warp, Team Lightyear, and Zarah had vanished from around the Emperor, only there were the reflections of youth and aging. Then, Zora's face began slowly changing, until Buzz understood staring at his own self, taken the form of the evil Emperor. Usually at this spot, he had bounced awake, his body slimy with cold sweat.

Yoka had reacted very oddly to her Owner's nightmares. She did not dash to console him with kisses and hugs as she woke up to his shrieking startles. For the first time this had happened, Buzz had thought she had lost her mind. Namely, the woman had taken some distance from him, set herself on tailor's seat, closed her eyes and tuned up a tardy, vibrating rune song. Lightyear had long goggled at her, standing on his knees on the humid bed linen. The melody was oddly soothing, but he could not conceive what the heck she was up to, until scrambling at her and asking. The explanation was, that if a Kalevan man had private sorrow or relevant, his wife, or sister, or whoever close woman usually took part of the grief by bewailing and humming jeremiads. Why this had not happened before, was that the singer had to have a strong emotion binding herself to the broken-hearted. There her tale was disrupted because of a storm of shyness tumbling in her. Coy Yoka was still to tell about her feelings towards him, so unsure.

This took place a few times, but in the end, Lightyear actually found it comforting. As strange as it sounded. But... the Captain had a second kind of anxiety also. Deeply sorry he was for his father, whereas his conscious tormented him because of going so far with the abrasive questions. Buzz had not blurted a beep at him since the day before yesterday. Thus, every hour a new boulder was added on his mental burden. A millstone of guilt was even now hung around his neck. Just a bit of discipline and he could have had stifled the vile accusations.

He felt someone patting his shoulder. Nebula murmured there, sounding as fed-up as the employee. "Look, kid, you can go home. Blast, these bureaucrats'll nag until the sun turns pink and cows start flying. They won't get a solution for this today."

"Uhh yeah... thanks", Lightyear sighed. According to his wristcom timer, he was already very, very late from home. Thus he slouched to the launch bay and eventually blasted off with a flash-quick SC speeder. The ebon-black space awaited ahead, the Capital Planet's huge form curving initially below him. But... his hand shilly-shallied pushing the hyperflight activator. There, in the vast roundness of the core, was his father somewhere... perhaps still morosely sulking his past. Lightyear owed him an enormous apologize, and he wanted Zora to know that he was indeed sorry. Hence, the roaming hand on the console instead twisted a clutch and turned the ship's course towards the gleaming, sunbathing atmosphere beneath.   

One last time, Buzz stroked his hair backwards, and brushed his beard with a pair of fingers. His knees clattered lightly together, the sentences felt tangling up on his palate like in a giant cobweb. But he had no choice, the shrieking consciousness did not give up its clucking. Besides, the Captain had promised himself never again to ignore its ditties, were they how unpleasant ever to hear then.

He stood at the front door of his father's cranky redoubt. There was no doorbell in the bizarre entrance, which resembled the grill of Zurg's old helmet. But there was a big knocker, which Buzz grabbed with a trembling hand. One more time he had scruples about to clank it... but no. Taking a long inhale of courage, he forced his fist to obey him. _Clonng__, blonng, doiinnnggg_, the door boomed. Swapping his pose at least five times a second, Lightyear was left to wait. His walloping was taken into consideration very speedily.

It was the worst person he had expected to dive up in front of him. The stepmother. Obviously she had occurred to walk past the door and reached the handle before the butler grub, who vacantly crouched behind her. And, in a flash, the mementos from behind the days whooshed by Buzz' oculars. How he had been trying to reconcile his crying father; how Mariañ had pulled aside the chamber's sliding door... she had burst out to weep also, as seeing how ill and exhausted her _Zurgypoo_ had looked like. The nice afternoon had died to this conflict. Buzz had helped his father to get to rest, that woman conducting the swaying emperor from his other arm... the ranger had shed apologies, the surgeon wailing and trying in vain to find out what was wrong with her Googly Bear. Buzz felt almost greater feelings of shame now, as opposing her face to face like this after the awkward skirmish. Indeed, a while, they just stared at each other, Buzz feeling his jugulars twitch. The woman had uttered a surprised 'hello', but the man's tongue was in an overhand knot. Yet, she did not look angry actually. Just somehow worriedly baffled.

"Uhh I..." he hacked, feeling his knees turning to liquid wax, "I ahh... came to apologize. The things of uhh... I caused uhh... uhm... Can I see my dad please?"

He was invited inside. Mariañ remained silent through the march along the endless corridors and staircases towards the room where Zurg lodged. He formed crumbs of sentences in his mind. How to confirm that he was sorry... and how to go on with the discussion that was finished so upsettingly. Abruptly his stepmother stopped her tiptoeing at an ajar triangular door. 

She creaked the entrance open. The chamber behind it appeared to be some sort of domicile library, decorated with a dark-purple soft wall-to-wall carpet and matching wallpapers. Inside were stuffed several high bookshelves, their racks piled up with hundreds of holo-roms and real books. The old man sat at a study table, bent down, and was very absorbed in some huge, old-looking epos.

"Zetapoo, Hun, Buzz came to see you", Mariañ gave a knock on the door with her knuckles. Zora winced, casting his almost grim regard over his son. Lightyear felt terrible. Today he seemed to be over-sensitive concerning everything, and lastly wanted to cause someone bale.

"Dad, umh... I..." he rambled on the same series of apologies he had performed downstairs. The Emperor's hard, wrinkled face gradually melted softer, but still stagnated in the pond of agony.

"Son, come in. Sit down", he sighed, pulling a free chair forth.

They sat several minutes silent. Buzz had buried his head in his hands, staring at the battered, grooved desk surface. The yellow light crystal glared in the background. Those grooves were like the memories time stamps on human's mind, he thought. Others deeper, others curved, others sharp and grimacing. Some of them hid under the plane. Those latter furrows should perhaps not be examined... our hidden memories that are meant to be entombed.

"I hope you understand now why I had wished to forget it." The Emperor broke the stillness finally. "But... maybe it shall be impossible. Alike it is impossible just to push away the evil deeds I once did... twenty-six years of slavery, slaughtering, fighting against my own, only son..."

Buzz nodded biting his lip. How could he forget how it was like from day to day to attempt foiling Zurg's schemes, and save survivors from places he for his malicious amusement annihilated? The dark, dark years of past...

Suddenly, Zora's sharp goggle was over him. "But you did not just come here to apologize, did you? I can guess your ulterior motives, son. You still search for answers, do you not?"

The scion aroused. How did dad _do_ that? Or was his face just so readable? Indeed, he had _had_ some hope to hear more about Adi-Gaia. Although the stories had been so disturbing, he somehow yearned to learn more about the hidden bygones.  "Uhh I... well..."

Nonetheless, his company had stood up and was initially stagnating beside one of those gigantic shelves. He pulled out an enormous, heavy album from the middle of dusty books. It was soon thrown onto the table with a loud thunk. Buzz stared at the large, box-looking bindings made of strong alloy. Several buckles held it together, hindering its bubbling inners from falling apart. Scraps of paper, corners of holodisks and all kinds of junk peeked from the middle of the strong sheets, even when the album was tightly closed.

"A piece of Lightyear history", Zurg grunted while sitting back down. "I thought I would never get this back in my hands again... unless Commander Nebula, that hobbling ouzel of Star Command, had not saved this from Planet Z." A dark scowl hit the son. "Quasars, was it then once so necessary to ruin my naughtily beautiful palace so squarely, that only a few of my private rooms stood intact? Otherwise that old coot could have saved a good amount of my other private belongings! Hmpff. Gryf. Even my cuddly-wuddly plushie collection of _famous space furries _went all mushed! I had then just added Stitch and an Ewok to garnish it. Grroff!"

In the meanwhile, Buzz had already opened the case and was gawping amazed at the inners. While on the most part the album seemed concentrating on the Lightyear family in overall, it was a very dangerous bit of evidence concerning Zurg. The first pages were stuffed full of both holographic and -grammic images of the Emperor, with his full Zurg costume on excluding the helmet. Though these shots were taken several years ago, the man looked somehow almost twenty years older in them than now. Perhaps it was the different, flatter hairdo, and that darkly mischievous, snarly face. Goodness, indeed, made the expressions shine different light.

"Ahh you found some very gorgeous photographic samples of the mighty me! Although I think I do look far much more handsome nowadays. That grandpa's haircut was a toot." Zora sleeked his thick, bushy-grown black tresses smugly with a tip of finger. "Yet, this time I shall not concentrate on me. I was thinking..." his voice grew severe, "...to let you see something... about Adi. I... have wanted to forget, but... perhaps I shall let you wrap open the bygones."  

Buzz felt as if his heart had suddenly spurted up to his throat and collided against his palate. His mother? Was Zurg really going to show him something about his mother, or had he heard just some false hoots of wind? The man could not recall seeing any pictures of her, ever. Perhaps in the very early childhood, but those mementos had gathered moss and faltered into gray, blurry particles. And, he had been a mere infant when she had passed away.

Biting his lower lip, brows crumpled, the Emperor leafed through some pages of the album, then, during one sheet, extracted a small holo-disk from a plastic folder. Next it was carefully set it inside a holorom reader. He flipped through dozens of past-whizzing holos with a switcher, before he came across with the right segment of the disk. It caused him difficulty; hands shaking the old man tried preventing the sore emotions that effervesced deep from his subconscious. And as the final point, the Captain was left to stare straight at something creepily familiar-looking. An old, flickering holo of a woman, that looked exactly like the one from his nightmare. Only that the image was twice clearer now.

He let his fingers wander among the occasionally blinking, crackling statue of light. His mind... it must have dug something up from the very oldest and most profound nooks of his sensorium, when the emotional shock had occurred. There was no other explanation. The terrible tales had narcotized him in a way, mixing up associations and bringing forth memories he did not even understand having. In the three-dimensional picture could be seen a woman in her mid-twenties, smiling a bit wistfully. Her blue eyes were half-closed, and she held her hands resting on a table, while the lady herself sat on a high-backrest chair. Her dark-brown, wavy curls were open, scattered across her shoulders. Her features were soft, perhaps very slightly oriental-esque. There she would go on smiling, eternally, captured inside this artificial holo. So full of sentiments the lifeless light statue still seemed to be... yet, it all was just an illusion, a fragment of past brought forth from a dusty bookshelf.

"That picture..." he heard his father's half-choked voice explaining in the background, "...was the last one ever taken. A week or two... before she left."

Buzz sighed, deep. Somehow it felt relieving to meet faint keepsakes this way, but on the other hand, a cold string of woe strangled his throat. Nothing would bring Adi-Gaia back. Never. Then... an other kind of association. There was something rather intimate in the appearance of this holographic woman. Not the in the genetic resemblance, but... elsewhere. As if Buzz had seen something recently... The riddle was unexpectedly solved. Zurg's wife had appeared on the doorway with a tray, two large tea mugs steaming on it, along with a huge bowl of bunzel muffins. _She_. It was _she_.

There was a resemblance between Adi and Mariañ. She was taller, more angular and had edgier face, yet still... the smile, the look in the eyes, the color of the hair, even the coiffure. And even, she was about the same age as the person portrayed there. Did this mean what? Just a coincidence, most likely. Or... did his father try to relive the things he had lost, this way? By marrying someone who was like a half-copy of the missing one? Lightyear massaged his temples, attempting to harp on himself that he was blaming now his father too hard. It was Zurg's own thing how he built up his life, as far as it was directed back towards goodness. Still... Buzz could not get rid of certain prejudices. The girl was utterly too young for Zora. Even appeared somehow naïve and teen-esque. That constant sillyish giggling and tittering... On the other hand, they got along brilliantly together, or so it at least looked like.  The man felt his awareness accusing him of being biased. Yes, he should try... try to get rid of his minor intolerance towards his stepmother. Weren't they just the same things, intolerance and prejudice, which had put the space ranger to treat Yoka like a filthy dog in the first place? Traps of the dark side those emotions were, indeed.

-----Meanwhile, back in Kaon-----

Yoka stood at a kitchen worktable, piling up some clean dishes back to the cupboard's top shelf. She was proud to know how to use a MIC-type dry-clean dishwashing machine nowadays. Oh, so much futile work had to be done back in the days of Kaleva... water at first heaved up from the river, then carried home in heavy buckets, then boiled in a huge cauldron... just then the pots and plates could be rubbed somehow clean. Her indistinct thoughts roamed around that name. What were her village's residents possibly doing now? Blacksmith Ilmarinen probably tinkled in his forge shop... the _viisaat_ perhaps wrote new runes... How about... her father? She seized her work, falling in reflections. This was one of the rare occasions after the depart she had come rather wistfully to sigh due to the old man's memory. Still, though Vainamoinen being so distant, she missed him in some cranny of her heart.

She winced as noticing that the house's walking trash compacter had appeared beside her. It was ready to swallow the possibly falling cup she was loosely dragging between two fingers. Grunting, she gave it a pooh-pooh. That thing was just so irritating! It kept following her always when she was wandering around the first floor. Even now it was giving merry beeps and whirrs, as if _encouraging_ her to actually _drop_ the dish so that it could have a snack. It repeatedly opened its top lid like some mouth, keeping that cajoling purr. As if this was not enough, the stupid robot started almost nuzzling her shank.

Suddenly Yoka felt something else. _There had been a knock on her shoulder_.

She swirled around, in a startle, and was made shiftlessly to stare at the empty space in front of her. Only the walking trash bin kept noise in the room. Shrugging a bit frightened, she decided to go back to the work. Weird. Perhaps it had been a false neural sense or something.

_But then there was another one. _A clear touch of someone's fingers tapping her shoulder.

This time, she produced a small scream, twirling about again. Her hackles up, she gawped at the lifeless kitchen anteriorly. Nothing. Plainly nothing. The mecha had stopped the buzzing, there was a complete stillness hovering dankly around.

"Who--- who ees there?" she snapped in broken accent, slowly taking treads forwards. "Ees there who?" Still, silence. Yoka had advanced the hall with her course. But then, right at her ear she heard a whisper. 

"Guess it."

Screaming, she backed up several meters. She had heard a prompt, a clear pair of words being articulated. _But there was absolutely nothing on the spot where there should have been a person_. Or at least something living. Panting, hackles up, she pressed herself against the wall behind. Now, her sensitive ears picked up other noises too. Something, like a gush of fine canvas, swept across the hall. She sensed a small airflow reaching her face.

_There was something, invisible, moving in front of her._

"Who ees there I know there someone is to be!" Yoka yelped again.

"Hehehehe... curious, eh? Perhaps you _know_ me... hahahaha." Came an answer out of nowhere.

This made her pupils reduce even more. She indeed knew _that voice_. That was Proud Crescent's voice, was it not? What was going on? The intermezzo of the wardrobe raced back from her memory. Either this was another apparition, or then... Buzz was playing some nasty game at the cost of her. Was this his idea of a good joke? Yoka-hanen at least found this far from amusing. Still... she had not seen him coming back from his work today, in addition of him being already considerably late. So it could not be him, could it? Furthermore trembling with fear, she queried the invisible something.

"Buzz? Do yu do this thing, yu think it ees funny?"

"Hehehe. Yes, I think it's very funny to see you trembling with fear", the slightly drawling tone had a very cold nuance in it. "I enjoy it. I enjoy so much seeing you fail...seeing you so helpless, hehehe." 

She crumpled her brows, suspicion in her mind. This did not quite sound like her husband who his both thumbs up had encouraged her and helped already so much to understand the incongruity reigning here.

"Yu no Buzz."

A small sweep wafted nearer her. Then, the voice was right at her ear again. "I didn't deny it, did I? I'll let you decide who or what I am..." With the hushed end, a petty, coldish stroke touched her bare arm. This was the last drop. Shrieking she ran out of the house and jammed the door shut behind her.

Gasping breath Yoka slumped down to lean against a tree on the foreyard. The white, round-arched house rising in front of her looked suddenly so forbidding. _What was in there?_ Why was someone or something frightening her this way? If it was Proud Crescent, then why, _why_?  What had she done to him that she would deserve treatment like this? Or... was Buzz possibly transforming undercover back in the fiend he had been originally? Yoka understood now that the man she had seen upstairs a few days ago, was not the creation of her imagination. Only now it had turned invisible. Perhaps it had disappeared that way also then. Yet... how was it possible? She held her beating temples, pondering in vain. This world was so bizarre, was it thus presumable that people could turn themselves into phantoms by pushing some button, just like that...? No, no, no, it was all so confusing.

_"Boo." _The voice was back. A bantering whisper had been hissed right above her. One more time, Yoka sprang up, shrieking. _It had come after her into the garden?_ The light of sensation was extinguished in her mind, and the desperate girl ran back in the house. Stairs up as fast as possible, and slam, the bedroom door got locked after her. The Kalevan plunged under the bed, spending the rest of the evening there, shaking all over and biting her nails broken.

Back at Zurg's house, the discussion between the father and the son had relented for a moment. Buzz was captivated to study the shabby album the Emperor had picked up from the shelf. Slowly leafing through it, he had gradually dived inside an unknown history. Lightyears, all sorts of Lightyears walked tardily past. Some pictures did a small fidgeting movement, some spurted out petite holostatues, some just jutted still and grumpy, depending on the photo's technical composition. Decades of Lightyears, centuries of Lightyears. Eagerly, his oculars scrutinized the pictures, swallowing every crumb of information he could get out of them.

There perched all kinds of women, men, and kids. Though, the Captain could almost immediately point out the blood relatives. Most of them had the familiar cleft imprinted on their chins, whereas the men were usually very tall and dark-haired. He must have inherited his shortness from Adi, since his own father was over seven feet tall. Occasionally a few blonde-haired or brunettes peered him back from the age-old images. Several had also the same kind of habit to scowl threateningly equally to Zurg. Also, that long upper lip appeared to be a dominating genome. Though, Zora's one seemed to have somehow even overstretched by the age. In his youth pictures he looked almost normal, and there was not half a meter distance between his nose and mouth.

As browsing through the plastopaper sheets, Buzz descended deeper in the history. As leering one page though, he was left to goggle at one photo where was portrayed two elder men. This picture had to be several hundreds of years old, at least regarding its material. Of course it shone with bright colors furthermore, but that type of hard, plated photopaper was used nowhere these days. The men in it were pure Lightyears, which could be seen from their facial eccentricities. The shorter one in the left had white, rather greasy-looking long hair, an angry grunt on framed with black pointed brows, his cleft-stamped chin clean-shaven. The one in the right was younger, and looked very much like Zurg. His thick, black hair was combed backwards, a monocle shielded his left eye, and on the whole, the appearance was very snobby. To make him more Zurgish, he had even a black chin beard, and high stiff collars in his peculiar outfit. All in all, they both were garmented somewhat baroque-like, with oddish details in their costumes. Ruffles in cuffs, large engraved buckles sticking out of everywhere, both of them in addition wearing heavy, black capes.

"Dad? You know who these are?" Lightyear blurted. There was usually a name or equal appearing either inside the photo, or written beside it. This time there was no such information.

Zurg tapped his chin with a long thin finger. "Huuhuhoom... grohh... ahh I have the names right niftily on the top of my overglorious mind, but their form is not slithering out... hymm... something with Z they were..."

Buzz rolled his eyes. Every single Lightyear seemed to have a Z in their name, so what surprise would that be? Yet, the Emperor removed the picture from its plastic holders, turning it carefully over, glancing at some text written on the background.

"Ahh, indeed. Zoxewa and Jardaz Lightyear. Brothers, I would recall. They had some peculiar story relating to them..." he scratched his hair, a pout on, as if being mad at himself for not recollecting things so brilliantly.

His son however perked. Could they be... _those brothers_? About whom Mr. Hadron had told? Answers scooted forth in a bolt. They were the same persons, yet unfortunately Zurg could not add much more to the shoe seller's tale. Lightyear was a bit disappointed, but that history was not so important, was it? It had been forgotten anyways a long time ago, so maybe it was not even that essential to be acquainted with it.

Time had whizzed by with giant leaps. Buzz would ultimately need to head back to Morph, now. Yoka was possibly furious because of him being so late. He tried giving her a comlink call, but none answered. Possibly there was a small ion storm above Kaon, or something, if the extraplanetary connections did not work. However, he did not regret at all that he had come to visit Zurg this day. He and the Emperor had their friendship back in frames, a peace reigning again between them.

---------

Finally Buzz parked his speeder in the garage. Ahh, it was so good to be at home at last. The only thing he now wanted to do, was to close Yoka in his arms. Half of the day he had missed her warm softness against him, at least while semi-snoring listening to the quack of the ministers. So, with an affectionate smile on, he tapped out of the vehicle and headed in.

Back inside, when the Kalevan had heard his vehicle's engines roaring on the yard, she had gathered a little bit courage in herself. A tiptoe downstairs had been done, and initially she peered at the front door from behind a hall corner. So, Proud Crescent had come back? Should she ask... no, she could not. During the hours, it had once again started doubting her that had the weird noises been real at all. Namely, they had not returned afterwards. But what if they were real...? Was Buzz really playing at the cost of her? Lastly Yoka concluded that she actually dared not to open her mouth about today's occurrences. She would stay as quiet as a grey stone.

Lightyear caught her immediately as the sliding door had opened. He wondered a bit why the lights were not on downstairs though it was almost pitch-black already outside. Traipsing to her with a parsec-wide grin on his face, he drew her against his chest, ready to give her a good kiss, if not tens of them. But what? She pushed him away, retreating and staring oddly at him. Like the woman had been afraid of something in him.

"Yoka? What's wrong? Look I'm really sorry that I'm late, but I tried calling you..." he stepped onwards, explaining, arms stretched out. "I was visiting my dad because..."

But she was gone, sneaking back the stairs up, holding her aching head. She did not want to hear his weird explanations right now. Or what would she explain herself, as not being even secure of her own sanity? She needed rest, rest, sleep...

The Captain remained standing perplexedly in the dark hall. 

...to be continued...


	7. Shadow's grip

The bedroom was quiet. Outside, behind the round, matte window glass, the sky was faintly gray. The crack of dawn would draw its more dazzling colors there later; yet the darkness still overruled. Yoka squirmed slightly in her sleep. All night the rest had been fidgety for her. Nightmares, this time it was her turn to experience those. And Buzz' shift to wince awake because of her. His own nocturnal troubles had fallen more faded, perhaps due to his long talk with Zurg. Usually, when the heart is free of guilt, even the dreams harass less. Yet, her anguish was the unknown fear, not remorse.

During the breakfast the Lightyear household's atmosphere relieved slightly, although the Kalevan had been very cranky, almost sulky the past hours. Buzz considered her suffering from some of those feminine whims that women used to have every so often, and just treated her with his usual devotion. No one had kept him a tirade about yesterday's weird conflict, thus he was unaware of the hindmost confusion-reasons. Therefore he though this to be a part of his learn-to-be-patient program of emotional character development.

Yoka-hanen gathered also a part of her convenience back. He _seemed_ gentle, just like usually. Tinkling with his coffee spoon and explaining that his father should cut his hair a bit, if not willing to look like a walking shrubbery. In the night, there had been his attempts to comfort her because of the restlessness. She sighed, commanding herself to calm down. Perhaps the happenings would not repeat themselves any more. Perhaps this day would occur to be just normal. 

Some time passed. Buzz had left, Yoka was alone in the house. She threw herself to sit on the sofa, and snapped the holo-TV on. The morning appeared light, white rays of the sun fluttered in through the clean, round window. Her head was still rather dizzy after yesterday, but the strong breakfast started shoveling the mud off from her brains. Still... inside this house was something creepy. Either it was Buzz, or then something _else_. But what else looked and sounded like Proud Crescent? Or had she really just seen hallucinations, something that prevaricated from the days of her beginning existence as a _vaimo_? Like reflections of the first nauseous moments with Buzz...? No, not likely. She was not insane, not biased. At least that she kept repeating to herself with hard determination.

The troubles scooted in faster today. As lounging lazily there on the soft seat, her left arm hanging loosely on the armrest, she abruptly felt a small waft of air sleeking past. Then, a whisper at her ear, drawling out of nowhere.

_"Good morning, Yoka... Your dear friend is back..."_

In a reflex, she screamed, but this time also acted physically. The voice had come from the left side, so her resting arm was in a bolt strained to a strong hit. Smack, and her knuckles actually _did_ smite something in the middle of plain nothing. Though, this was perhaps scarier than if the hand had met only pure air. But, instead, there was something solid, yet cold ahead. Like rubber... or a cooled corpse.

Screaming she retreated to the other end of the sofa, staring at the empty spot at the voice's place. _What had she hit?_

"Uhh, feisty, eh?" now the speech came from another region of the room, added with a tinge of suffocated pain in it. As if the eerie had truly been hurt. "But stupid. Miserable damsel in distress who can't even speak properly. Soooo afraid... hahahaha."

Stuttering with both fear and hatred, the Kalevan shrieked from her corner. "Why yu thees do me? Is yu Buzz? Eef then, eef yu Buzz, why yu teese me do? I no likee this!"

A cold, hard, long laughter filled the room. A voice identical to Buzz Lightyear's voice, with a death-callous nuance added in it. "What did I say! Can't even speak properly! Do you think someone can understand that twanging?" it pitched its voice to falsetto, in order to imitate her scornfully. "_Ees__ yu bass, mee speek ape. Ooga booga! _Just pathetic! Hahahahah!" 

Tears had begun trickling down her face. The ghost was viler, and acted twice as arrogantly as yesterday. But it could not be her dear Owner, could it? He had so caringly acted towards her this morning... but what did she actually still know about him? Proud Crescent remained furthermore as a half-stranger. Or was he some kind of schizoid with an evil half in him? And under the reign of that kind of atrocity her father had amortized her for the rest of her days? No, no, no, it could not be!

"Ees yu Buzz? Why yu no answeer me?" She had stood up, tears messing her cheeks. She cast her regard upwards, since it was as if the derisive laugh was twirling around her, all over the room. It had no coherent spot, though it seemed coming closer... closer... and snatch. Something took a hold of her arms from behind, with a cold, merciless grip.

"Perhaps, perhaps... As I said, I'll let you decide, if I'm your precious lovin' Buzz Lightyear, hahahaha."

With a forceful yank, Yoka ripped herself free from that abominable, clammy clutch. Her senses were blurring, the first image of a sanctuary that popped in her mind, was the bedroom. With a hard, locked door. She made a leap towards the stairs, but this time, the voice _followed_, speeding right on her heels. It mocked her, mocked her every sore part and flaw with mischievousness. Stairs up... with every step it was closer again, closer... the laughter turning to hoarse croak.

Slam! The woman had jammed the bedroom's door shut and fastened the lock. In the last possible second. Panting, sweat dripping down the back of her neck, she slumped down onto the bed. She buried her face in her hands, muffling the sound of her anxious cry. _Again this had had to happen?_

The bedroom's entrance stood tight. _Clank, clank..._ The handle was groped by an invisible hand from the outside, but it did not give in. A small gush could be heard in the half-lit corridor, as something left the doorway, beginning to drag itself back downstairs. A low, gruff cackle walked together with the soft swish of some fine canvas.

"Hehehehe... craters, this is getting definitely fun! She's really freaking out more and more! Stupid chick, though spunky, got to admit that. Hmh, and I still don't know what to do to you, Mister Buzz Lightyear. All these years here, and still I have no plan. But it's fun to tease you for starters. Heheh", the imperceptible shadow sniggered to himself. "But still I need to think and wait, since not being sure what to do. But that chick is definitely funny, thinks that _I_ am her brainless doody-goody husband! Hmm... yes, perhaps I'll tear your friends apart at first, then strike you. Hmm sounds like a fun idea..."

Suddenly, as if the plain air had given birth to something ghastly, a black form of robes dived out of nowhere, at the root of the staircase. It hovered a few inches above the floor, and seemed to fold and wrap some grayish bundle with its gloved hands. A pair of crumpled, piercing eyes leered the widths of the living-room from the shadows of the black deep hood. The shadow opened slightly its cape, and tugged the thing it had been holding in his hands inside a large pocket. Then, its eyes got attached to something on the living-room wall. Zora's picture seemed to interested it enormously again. It swept to hover in front of it with a soft spurt.

"You." It talked to the picture, frowning. "You were supposed to be dead! Lightyear wasn't supposed to have a living father!" A fierce shush left the depths of the cowl. "Zurg lied to me. I can't believe he lied to me! Blast, gloated his victory in front of me and praised himself how he had slaughtered Lightyear's stupid father. And here I come to hear _him _blabbering in the phone to his living, well-being daddy!" Then, the expression in the robed person's eyes changed slightly to more arrogant, as it was pondering topics further. "Zurg would get his revenge too because of lying to me. _No-one lies to me, ever!_ But darn it, he's dead!" It opened slowly its clenched fists. "But oh well. Better him to be gone than to face my wrath, hahahaha. Blast, I still would have enjoyed him withering and crawling in front of me... but... I'll concentrate on these instead." It leered at the grinning oil painting once more. "I'll finish you off anyway someday, no one needs these new generation Lightyears around. Too bad, too bad that they didn't appear like their fancy ancestors..."

With an angryish puff, the form left the living-room and headed to the empty kitchen. It stopped in front of the fridge, listened carefully to the air for a moment in order to spot any even a petty crack, and then drew the fridge door open.

"Darn, if only I had food in my neat fortress, I wouldn't need to steal my rations like some pathetic parasite. It's so degrading! I had might and power; the infinities were in my hands, and what am I now? Handicapped, alone, and _still_ unable to leave this stupid planet! All is lost, I can't get back. And was it necessary from that girlie to hit me that hard? Grrhghh. My arm hurts still." The shadow snarled at himself, bringing a bowl of cold soup near the hood. A sniffing voice emerged from the cloth's blackness, and a spoon was filched from the drawer. Soon the weird phantom began bailing the soup inside the hood. "So humiliating..."   

Meanwhile, Buzz was approaching Star Command with good speed. Today would be performed the promotion of a certain member of his old team. Though... she had not wanted any glossy parties to be celebrated because of it. Just the modest ceremony at the Base, and that would be it. As much as a cliché it was, the Morphean's mind flushed full of mementos of the past adventures. It had been a completely different thing with the Rookie of the Year award, ages ago. His team had been so full of eager to compete against each other, everyone willing to be the best and to get to bask in the glory. Later on, at least two of Team Lightyear had grown humbler, whereas XR seemed remaining always the oh-I-want-to-be-the-galactic-champion -personality.

A few days ago it had been announced that Mira was going to get the status of captain. Both Booster and the robot were also to receive a bucketful of medals because of some of their previous deeds, so they all had a certain kind of summit today. Thus, Lightyear had left from his work after the lunchtime, hoping he would catch his former team somewhere in the vast corridors of Star Command. If the festivals had been arranged yesterday, he would have had far much better chances to slip in. However, now he would be thankful to see the last seconds of the rite, or even to catch anyone of Team Nova before they would return to patrolling.

At last his ship was parked in the launch bay. But he was considerably late, and would not hear any horn toots echoing any more. Yet curiously, Lightyear traipsed forwards, in case he might be able to yank Munchapper's or anyone's sleeve. He felt immense pride; the ones he had trained ready in practice, with hard teamwork, had reached a point of honor. His big boots brought him deeper inside the Headquarters. And, near the briefing room, he spotted the Princess. There she stood, her brand new uniform on, surrounded still by a small crowd after the formalities. Commander Nebula was about to leave, though, but a few females -obviously rookies themselves- still prattled around her. Buzz curved behind the swarm, giving then a knock on her shoulder.

Surprised Mira swirled around. "Oh, hi Buzz! Didn't expect to see you around. I though you..."

"...had a workday on Morph. Yeah, but I'm allowed to move around more liberally nowadays. Uhh well that much liberally that I managed to miss the fiesta." He threw in a grin. "But yeah. I'm not that obsessed with my job any more. There's also other life than Star Command existing for me. And I think you know _why_. Heh." A slight blush reddened his visage.

She simpered back, remembering the eccentric girl he had snatched aboard from the uncharted planet.

"I'm teaching her to write and read. Hehe, keeps it really exciting. Likes especially the letter 'B', she says it looks _harmonic_", Buzz gave a merryish laugh, swallowing the fact that the last night had been very awkward in their household. Then he went on shaking Nova's hand warmly. "Well, then. Congratulations, Mira."

She curved her mouth into an uneasy smirk. "Uh, yeah. Thanks. Well I guess I learned from the best, though."

"Heh well the 'best' has been in the dark side twice", he made a bit fun of himself. "For the starters of your captain-career, I recommend to stay away from there." Another abashed-esque grin responded. Though, Lightyear's tone grew more severe now. "I guess your fa... uhh... King Nova wasn't really pleased to hear about this?"

Mira's face flew austere, her lips pursing. It was obvious that the things between her and her father were not quite conversational any more. Something about the Kaleva case had destroyed the last bits of confidence. Slightly after the searchers had returned home with the lost ones, Nova had appeared back to Star Command with a changed appearance. No more things to remind her of Tangea, or her troublesome patron. Even her red locks had received a deep-blue dye. Yet, Buzz had to admit that this a little bit rebellious choice actually was not a bad idea. The orange flames had made a tad too strong contrast with blue skin, perhaps. In any case, the transformation had been remarkable.

The Princess had gathered the fragments of her self-control back, though still puffing and snorting. Not a very pleasing topic for her to chat about. "I don't understand what's his problem. His attitude towards people different from him just gets worse every day. I mean, you wouldn't have wanted to hear what he talked to me about Yoka's people behind everyone's backs. And how he called your wife. I think the Kalevans were really nice, friendly people, and they had a beautiful grasp of arts and everything." Her sonus had evolved into a stern mutter. "I do respect him as a parent, yes, but I can't accept his way of thinking. It's going too far, starting to sound almost dangerous. I... I just don't know what..."

Buzz sighed, his regard leering at the floor. Not only once he had been called a 'low-browed ape' by King Nova. Conceivably he was not a puzzle master or Stephen Hawking, but still it was offending. Though... on the other hand his _own_ father was a certain champion in insults. Everyone was _pathetic_ or _lack-wit_ or _amoeba-brain_... every day Zurg seemed inventing new bynames for the folks around him. Then again, he slandered everyone _equally_, not favoring anyone over someone else. And... he in his heart did not seriously mean to defame anyone. Buzz remembered just about a week ago, how Zora at first had called his son _a numbskull ninny_, then a minute later had hugged him warmly and told how proud he was of him. Thus, the case of King Nova was rather much different.

"I really don't know what's gonna happen now. But I'm keeping my mind and staying at Star Command. Although I'm still sort of working as your substitute, I'm proud to lead an own team", she nodded to Buzz.

"That's good to hear", he smiled back. "So, how have XR and Booster taken this? And have you considered of taking a new copilot with?" he winked cunningly, "You know, it's in the _updated_ Space Ranger Manual guidelines that a regular space ranger team should consist of four members."

"Heh, yeah right", she sneered amused. "A solo-flying lone wolf who wrote half of the rules, huh? Nah, we're going along fine as a triplet. Though, ranger Munchapper's gone a bit too official and needs to relax. I mean, years ago he stopped calling me _plain_ 'Princess' or 'Your Highness', but since he heard that I'd get a promotion, he's been bowing and addressing me '_Your Captainnessness_', or '_Lady Captain-Princess_'. And..."

"Heyodales, royal captains, Prince of Purple Buckethead Empire and Princess of Tangoland! What's up doc? A pool party with a champagne fountain waiting?" XR's sarcastic greeting broke her sentence. Lightyear could see over Nova's shoulder him and the Jo-Adian approaching them. Booster had his big front full of gleaming and glittering badges, his grin resembling a bathtub in size. The mecha was smugly carrying his ones on a silver platter over his head, in order to double his splendor. Buzz broke to a smile and dashed to congratulate them both, Mira shrugging and rolling her eyes behind him.

Buzz' homecoming that day was anything but pleasing. As he had stepped over the threshold, it took half an hour from him to find Yoka-hanen. And two hours to get her persuaded out of the hard-locked bedroom. Her face pale, hands trembling, she slowly let the door open, as if assuring that there was none kind of walking mummy or relevant ogre behind there. And as Buzz tried asking what was wrong, she pushed him away half-angrily, half-afraid, remaining silent and sulking the rest of the day.

The following week made no difference, but turned day by day more complicated. The sun rose, Buzz left to work... and the inferno was ready to begin. The shadow's attacks grew more brutal. The more Yoka was afraid of the unexplained, the more cruel the invisible something transformed. The devilish laughter echoed throughout the dwelling, mocking her, telling her how devolved, how pathetic she was, clinging to every flaw and sore emotion she had. As if it had known exactly what made her feel ultimate sadness and horror... _Buzz Lightyear's voice damning her just like as if she had been back under the pressure in Kaleva..._ Occasionally that cold, putrid-feeling grip of the hidden horror snatched her arm into its harsh clutch. It felt always as haunted, wraith-like... putting her to loose the last nerves in her. Never she saw anything physical, although something like dressed in silky clothes or something, seemed hovering around. Once or twice Yoka had been able to distinguish a very faint shadow being outlined against a wall... but it disappeared as soon as it had arisen, leaving no chance to spot its origins.

Thus, day by day, the timid-turned, depressed female believed more and more that it was Proud Crescent who caused her this. Why, how, that she did not comprehend. Yet, every day, _he_ came back from "work", looking so baffled and innocent. _As if he knew nothing... _Or what if he..._ really knew nothing?_ In her apprehension, she was dead-afraid to ask. But the Kalevan knew she was not imagining things. It _was_ real, whatever it was then. One weird detail more was certainly that the attacks never happened when Buzz was present. As if the treeroots had swallowed the vile phantom then.

For Lightyear himself, the occurrences were a real enigma. A sad, frustrating enigma. What had happened to his Yoka? His lively, vivid, happy Yoka? After this one night that she had dashed upstairs, holding her temples, everything had fallen uncanny. She was silent, isolated, as if being shocked about something. Even gentleness had no effect. She pushed him away, always the same frightened gaze in her pupils. Had he done something to her, or why was she suddenly like this? So abruptly, without any logical reason. No answer came, nothing was sung back when he endeavored to ask. Nothing. Even the English lessons she had so much adored at the beginning, had turned averse to her. The female did slouch to the evening school, but looking like as if she just wanted to get out of his sight. Yet, there did not end the puzzles. Constantly Lightyear had to scratch his hair while opening the fridge. Where did all that food vanish? Yoka could never have dumped that much nosh in her trap. Then... there was the riddle of some of his clothes. That did not bother him that much though, it only appeared odd that some of his most practical garments had been swallowed by a black hole. They were not in the closet, not in wash, not in dry-clean. The captain was none kind of mannequin, so he did not even own a whole store of outfits. Hence the missing plagued, but it was not the end of the galaxy.

The tardily past-crawling days felt dreadful. What to believe, what to do... questions without answers, all it swam in a black tarn of turbidity.Nightmares, mazes, uncertainty.

Another awful day was behind. This time the ghost had gotten in to the bedroom. So Yoka had had no other choice but to escape out of the house, run out of the garden and spend the day by roving around the suburban streets. At least there the ghoul had not pursued her. Aimlessly, without a sense, she had walked some kind of a circle until tired out and trudged back to the mercy of the grisly house. Several bywalkers had goggled at her strangely, their blameless curiosity only tearing her emotions more. A week spent in Gehenna. That it felt like. Back at the dwelling, the crushed woman did not know where to go. Outside the dusk had fallen with a rain, so sojourning there was not an option any longer. And, she knew perfectly no-one in this town, so where could she have fled? In this state of mind, Yoka had no courage to go to knock any neighbor's door either. Besides, what to explain them? They would only stare at her teary face, not succeeding to understand her broken English. Thus, she stayed in the living-room, concealing herself in her own woe.

Lightyear was late again, yet he had given Yoka a note that he would come home just in the evening. Perhaps his work was called a part-time job, but occasionally -and that _occasionally_ was too often-, required overtime. And he had called, had tried giving her an apology via comlink for having to stay in his office with a boring pile of A4's, but as usual, no-one answered. Concerned he had become of her well-being, pondering it even now with a grunt as flying back home.

Yes, the same discomfort awaited at the destination even today. Though, in a measure wider he had expected. As stepping onto the front door's rug, hard snivels reached his ears from the room ahead. Yoka was crying, no other explanation. Baffled, Buzz stepped in the living-room. His briefcase got dropped onto the floor, flung open and all its inners scattered around the parquet like a flock of cockroaches.

"Y-Yoka...? What's the matter?" he stuttered, frozen on his place. She crouched in the furthest corner of the sofa, sobbing against her palms, drastic shivers swaying her lanky body.

No answer. He moved cautiously on, not caring to clean the mess from the floor. What on Saturn was the sorrow for? She had been so strange and avoiding the previous days and now... those were not any crocodile tears. There definitely was something serious bothering her, but what? And what hindered her from telling him, since he would certainly listen? Lightyear made a nod to himself; he would do anything to keep her happy and feel safe. Just anything. And she should have been aware of that too. Had he not tried expressing his love in all the best ways he was able to? Tried to be kind, understanding, patient... With a quick thought he agreed, that this uncanny whim of affliction had been quite temporary yet, but the scale of it was alarming.

"Yoka... come here. What's troubling you?" He sat beside her, starting to slide his thick arms around her shuddering body. She winced roughly, shook his hold off, and curled up more towards the sofa's armrest. The sobbing only seemed to escalate.

"Please... don't push me away. I only want to know what's the matter", he sighed sadly, taking another try to close her in his clutch. This time it went on smoother, though the girl still endeavored nudging him away. Buzz managed to get her lifted up to sit on his knees.

As he peeled her hands away to uncover her teary face, it became evident that this weeping had not begun a minute ago. Her eyes were all red, swollen, dizzy-looking. They did not cast a glance back, as he tried diving into her thoughts through them. The gray deepness beyond the glimmer of tears kept its riddles. Only uttermost confusion could be fumbled out from their grim profundity. They stared somewhere aside his worried face.

"Yoka? Please... tell me what's wrong?" he prompted against her lips, forcing her to encounter his visage. She avoided an eye-contact, even now. As if there had been some deformed poltergeist reflecting from his oculars.

"I... I... I d-d-don--nnot k-k-know..." she produced a graceless whimper. Yes, she did not know. The things went beyond her understanding. The invisible... the unexplainable... that vile, cold something stamped in her awareness... then _he_ appears like knowing nothing, like being a person completely different. What should she believe, since the faith had been ripped away? 

Buzz could not wait until the universe's end for more clarifications. He yearned to hold her, heal the sadness away. His thick lips slowly began trailing across her face, kissing every single tear away. Slipping down her cheek, they reached her mouth, softly melting together with it. He was soon losing the sense of this universe, it always seemed to happen as he expressed his mildest feelings to the first person he had ever loved _this way_. But oh, why did it have to be so difficult? He had wished, hoped everything to settle down into a calm wisp of dreamy mist. Where they could just be united with no wail, no agony... Nonetheless, again there were tears to be wiped away, just like in Kaleva. Though... this was not caused by him. Was the well of this bale homesickness, a burnout, or what? If it was something equal to those, why did she not just tell him honestly? Or did she feel shame, guilt about something? Not likely. If she would only tell...

His kisses had reached her neck, climbing tardily up along it to meet her lips again. Her tears had ceased somewhat, but still those drops of anguish rolled slowly down her jowls. Still no answer... no answer why the crying. But, at least this time she did not shove him away. Well, she had attempted that, though. However Yoka was blocked inbetween the sofa's backrest and the thorax of the space ranger. In addition that his big chest pushed her diagonally even more towards the hindrance.

Her strength had molten away. This, this did not feel at all like he would have wanted to tease her insane. His kisses, touches, everything at this moment, were as if they would be milder than ever, concentrating with all their force to console her. Several days she had refused to receive his endearments. Now however, something in the sheer essence of him broke down the resistance. She... she would need to tell him. Or ask. Talk at least something about those strange things. Otherwise she would live in insecurity for infinity and beyond.

As his lips were back united with hers, she answered half-afraid a bit to his kisses. This measure made him double the clutch of his embrace, and at least triple-deepen the kiss.  After an indefinite time, Buzz gradually cared to open his eyes and met her ones, which were still teary, timorous, and wide-flown. He separated his mouth from hers, but kept his face near.

"Yoka... what's wrong? Do you want to go back home, or what is it? Please tell me."

She angstily goggled at him. Never it had popped in her mind that he would ask something _like that_. As if he had _no idea_ what bothered her heart. The space ranger's visage literally shone with innocence, yet with the dominating sad shade. So was he lying or not? It did not look like that. Hence, she stuttered something incoherent that she did not wish to go back to Kaleva.

"It's OK, you can tell me if you want to go back", he whispered, smoothing her cheek with a big thumb. 

But she denied it again, this time with a clearer expression.

"Then what is it? Yoka, please. I love you, and I'll help you with anything that worries you."

"I fear..." she got a hasty gulp gargled out of her throat. "Yu... yu no wuuld want me scared, yu don't _haluisi__ pelotella minua? __Minae__ en tiedae, mikae minun on, minua pelottaa taeaellae yksin,  minae..._" The bewilderment blocked her feeble English.

Buzz snapped his wrist translator on, turning back to her. She was afraid of something? What, and why? There should have been nothing scary in this calm house, although... _he felt the weird sensation of being stared in his nerves again._

With careful and very slow questioning, the Captain finally brought at least a fragment of the apprehension out of her. Yoka's stories were very mixed, and did not for the most parts seem to make any sense. According to her lisping, she had heard voices, seen or felt something ghastly, inside these rooms. From one grumble he grasped that Yoka thought _him_ causing her this, or so that sob at least had sounded like. _He?_ But how that could be possible? Buzz was not even near the house while lodging at work during the daylight. Was his wife psychologically exhausted somehow, afraid of being alone, or what on Tellus was it? Yes, she seemed to have mentally broken down. The girl that huddled shuddering in his arms was nothing like the usual perky Indian.

His synapses went on piling up together the last few weeks. They had indeed been quite obscure. Though, not physically, but... still. His own nightmares, the horrible stories he had heard, in addition of those rumors, the caustic humming of his subconscious... The mind attempted dousing for connections, but there were none. All it just fell apart, without a link, without sense. However, Yoka could not be left in this state. Perhaps being alone in here was not a good thing to her at all. Pursing, he squinted. Should Buzz take her to the care of his friends or relatives for a while? He remembered that he had not been able to catch Warp in days with a comlink. Most possibly he was lodging in the nameless place where he used to disappear so often with Zarah. So the Darkmatters were not an option. But how about Zurg? Mariañ was having a longer vacation from her work, whereas Zora, as idiotic as it sounded, was retired. So they were almost around the clock in their purple 'palace'. There was the risk of Capital Planet's disturbing hubbub existing, but perhaps it was a smaller exposure compared with the panic his wife suffered here.

"Yoka, would you... like to spend some time with my father's family? I mean, if you... are afraid over here when being alone. I'm sure dad would let us stay there for a while. I'd go to work normally but you'd have some company while I'm gone. Or... how'd you like that?"

She stared at him with lacrima-sticky eyes. It _positively_ did not sound like he would want her to suffer, if offering her _this_. Mariañ and that zeta-alphabet-whatever-fan? They were as bizarre as Proud Crescent, but had been nice to her. But anything would go, so that she would not need to stay here. Dawn by dawn this stone teepee felt more appalling. Nodding with a small sob, she agreed with Buzz' plan.

His gentle smile shone with gratification. He understood that she was not rebuffing him any longer, but had received the trust back. "There, now..." Buzz lifted her back to sit fully in his lap, in the safety of his strong hold. "I'm sure this'll all turn out good again. I should've been more at home, with you... I'll call dad tomorrow and explain the things." Since not comprehending the full depths of her dilemma, he added though, "I still got a huge amount of stuff to do at the office tomorrow, but I'm sure you'll be able to stand that time here, eh? But I'll try getting the following day free." With these words, he rose up, and began carrying the girl upstairs.

But in the shadows of the hall, a hard grate of teeth was heard. Then, pungent hissing, as if a swarm of snakes had wriggled along the floor -or that something tried breathing in with a great rage storming in him.

"They're settling the dispute, I can't believe it! Craters, I failed! I won't stand this, I won't! Darn it, I've pathetically rotten years here, and should have come up with a decent plan by this time, but no! Darn it my weakness, thought I would heal up faster but of course not. And now I believed that that stupid woman would run away with a little scaring and that would crush his precious Buzzy, but no, no, no! They're getting back together and planning to go away! That's it! If it's up to her, if that's what makes that cursed Lightyear so happy, so may it be. Time to play rough. She's going first, and then I'll think what to do next. _Alone here, still tomorrow_... hahahaha."

The front door creaked noiselessly open, as something glided out of the house into the black, rainy night.    

...to be continued...


	8. Nex Crucio

--Next morning--

It seemed that the night Buzz had given his wife, had been a real cure for her confused emotions. Yoka was back in her bright state, and up before her mate, heaping up breakfast in the kitchen. Proud Crescent liked coffee and sandwiches, so those she would make along with her own nosh. She did not really know how to make coffee -since deeply detesting it herself- but capsized half a package of coffee grounds inside the maker machine with a few cupfuls of water. While something that resembled thick mud dripped inside the coffee-maker, she whistling prepared huge bread slices at the dresser.

As she entered the bedroom again, Buzz was awake. He had been a tad baffled because of not finding her under his arm, and thus had scrambled up with a speedy hurry. Stagnating there in the mid-floor, his negligee inside out on, hair and beard resembling old messy brooms as not being combed, a lonely sock half-drooping from his right foot, Lightyear managed to look just stupid. Yoka burst into an ear-splitting croak-laugh, swayed to him and slammed a heavy food tray in his hands. Patting him on the top of the head from the highnesses, she warbled some good-mornings with broken accent.

Lightyear was more than two hundred percent astounded, but also relieved. Perhaps her depression really had been just temporal. However, there was still the yesterday's concern. He would not wipe out the idea of going to Capital Planet for a while. Her very peculiar sniffings had left a trace in his heart. So, as soon as he would get dressed, he would call Zurg and ask. Thus, to get fully awake, he took a good deep gulp of Yoka's coffee, his face warping almost into an overhand knot a second later. The drink was so strong and tart that it could have revived even Sleeping Beauty from her 100-year sleep. It burned his palate like vitriol. Coughing against his palm, he tried covering the effects of the horrid drink from her. Another thing to teach: how to make decent coffee. Thus as she was back against him, he dumped the liquid inside the nearest jardinière, where a large hibiscus was residing. And for his luck she noticed nothing.

Ten minutes later Buzz was face to face with Zora on the vidphone. The old emperor listened to his explaining a few minutes, then started complacent rubbing his hands together, gloating, "That is Jim-kraken-dandy! We shall have a marvelous family reunion! And we shall bake muffins! Uuhahaa! Loads of muffins! Mountains of muffins! Stormy oceans of muffins! Oo! I shall prepare my Hyper Muffin Ray that makes 25% fluffier muffins than a normal Muffin Ray! And popcorn shrimp we shall have also! Muwahahaaahaaahaha!" Obviously this was Zurg's outlook of being pleased about his son coming for a longer visit. In any case, Buzz and Yoka would leave tomorrow.

The Kalevan however was not too happy to hear that she would be left alone at home, while Buzz would finish his grand backlog today at work. On the other hand, she was in a way shy to make him a note about her fears, about the dread of a few hours' isolation. But if it was all the specters of her flustered mind, should they not fly away now as her soul was beginning to heal from the depression? Yet... it was only one day, Proud Crescent announced. One day, and the nightmares would be gone? Perhaps...

Before Lightyear left, he with concern told her to call, if anything strange would happen. Yoka was left to pack her property, so that everything would be accomplished for tomorrow's depart.        

The morning's work at Buzz' office had begun with rustling papers. A pile of filled Space Ranger Academy application forms waited for his acceptance. Of course it warmed his heart that young men and women wanted to apply to Star Command, but today the desk job just did not really lift the spirits up. He would need to check the applicants' backgrounds from the Alliance Citizen Database, so that it was assured that the future cadets had no skeletons or other monsters in their closets.

Buzz took a big sip of his cocoa coffee, sat at his desk, and typed his login passwords on the computer. Glancing at the application papers, he picked up the first applier's name and social security number. "Neo Pion... Well, glad to see you willing to join Star Command, kid..." he gave a light smirk, and rattled the keyboard by inserting the required data into the database's search engine. The computer whirred a few moments, as it sucked information from the infinity-vast Alliance's network. However, some error had occurred. The holoscreen went nuts, starting to flurry and twirl, and ended up showing an episode of _Teletubbies _a nanosecond later.

_"Tinky-Winky, Dipsy and Laa-Laa...Hat, hat haaat, Hat, hat haaat, Hat, hat haaat hat"_ the 3D-image squeaked with sappy overhappiness and falsetto, Buzz cringing in his chair and holding his ears.

"AAARGHH! No, no, no, NOOOOOOO! Not this again!" he whimpered and succeeded with efforts to shut down the torturous cartoon by kicking the CPU. The holoscreen sizzled again, turning the view to the previous search program. The bluster had ceased. Still trembling with fear, the Captain heaved a sigh of easement. "Brr! That's scarier than any of dad's old torture devices!" 

Why this appalling skirmish had happened? The network search program had a source code bug of some sort. It reacted oddly when someone inserted in it social security numbers with Morphean affixes. Sometimes it worked well and listed the wanted info, but usually crashed, causing odd errors to happen. Hence, several times it had changed the transmission into some infants' holo-TV-channel broadcast, starting to belch out _Barney the Dinosaur_ or other afflictive shows.

Still shuddering, Buzz took another try. "Drat, someone should come and fix this thing. Upgrade the software or something. Of course Star Command HQ has everything tip-top, but when it concerns a minor bureau... blegh." He left the number code away, and typed only the person's name and home location instead. Whirr, buzz, surr... This time a success. An abridgement list of names appeared. Yet, there was over two hundred of them, all labeled '_Pion, Neo. Gamma Quadrant of Sector Four, Planet Morph, the Independent District of Kaon_', some of them added with a middle initial, though. And of course, the summary list showed nothing about the birth dates, but spat out the personal details just randomly. Again, some software engineer had shone with brilliant designing skills. And it seemed that the search engine had also erred to ransack some pre-Alliance data, namely Kaon's old local population registers, and sorted them with.

"Blast..." Lightyear smeared his forehead with his palm. "Must be a really popular name around. Though, there was one of those on my own junior high class... Took the wrong path and ended up to PC-7 a few years ago, that sneaky hacker..." Sighing, he admitted that there was no other option but to go through the names one by one, if he was willing to check the applier's background. "Pion, Neo, born then and then... Pion, Neo Cordé... this one's a woman! Pion, Neo Anakin... Pion, Neo: died last year UGT... Aww craters, how am I ever going to get through this diabolic list?" Leaning to his arm, he snapped the buttons, scrolling downwards the list. Half an hour later he had ended up staring at some of those gray natives called Neo Pion, who had lived around two hundred and seventy years ago local time, and obviously murdered. Yawning, he was about to stand up and get more coffee, but his eyes abruptly got fixed on something. It was the few lines under the deathday row. It had jabber about autopsy results, but the target of wonder was after it.

"Cause of death sealed as _Class M-0rd0-R666_?" he tapped his forehead with a finger. As far as he recalled, this outdated classification code referred to _ritual murders_. The Galactic Alliance had had different categorization symbols for things like that already tens of years. However the local database branch where the info was from, still seemed containing a lot of dusty gibberish from the days when Morph was not even part of the Alliance yet. How Lightyear was aware of the classification's meaning, was a novel-length story. During his long career as space ranger, he had become acquainted with dozens of cultures and their laws, thus having his head stuffed with more or less futile things. Including a lot of legislative claptrap.

Yet, his interest towards this term was not any boasting with knowledge. The fact was that his cranium was suddenly overflowing with Mr. Hadron's hushed tale about the anomalous cult. Even the years matched. _Ritual murder_, what else could it be? In addition, there was a link on the display leading obviously to a subnet with further information about the topic.

He straightened his pose, and directed the screen's cursor to the link. The interest of finding the _real_ Neo Pion's data had been flushed down the sewer. If Buzz had an opportunity to learn about this Nex Crucio -oddity, he would definitely not leave it unused. Although he knew he should do his work... but still. He had really no idea what intrigued him in the whole case, perhaps it was the quiet, smothered mystery. The stories he had heard Nana Lightyear telling, the ruins Yoka had seen in the forest... The link directed him to a page titled '_The International Bureau of Investigation of Morph: Police Department of Kaon, Detective Division Network_'. The next line below the flashy headline told that the whole department had been closed around ninety years ago.

"Aw, blast!" he grunted, noticing then the login box at the lower site of the screen. It seemed that the subnet was still accessible although it officially had been shut down. Buzz conversely could not be ascertain of his sign-in rights. He was a high-rank commanding officer of Star Command, but still...

Exhaling, curiosity pullulating more and more in his abdomen, he started filling in the ten different ID boxes. Several access codes with master passwords were required. Someone must have updated the login rights after the subnet was closed, though. Otherwise it would not be asking anything about the Universe Protection Unit's ID numbers.

For his surprise, he was accepted to enter. The link from where he had started from, continued its redirecting to the destination site concerning the murdered Neo Pion. The page loaded ages, lastly appearing to be a comprehensive report about the cause of death. His mile-wide-flown eyes were soon filled with disgusting pictures of the autopsy operation. Lightyear was near to vomit. But it was his own fault, the snooping had again done mischief. The person was horribly bruised, and apparently strangled to dead with a strange-looking ribbon, which was illustrated in the mid-page. Red silk it was, with a long black viper embroidered in its middle part. His finger sweeping along the holo-lines, Buzz read aloud with a mutter, "The victim was found on the western shoal of Kaon's Baryon Castle Island, 79th of Naksahtanut'Naakka-month... after twenty days of disappearance..." And at the end of the long paragraph, was stamped again the classification code M-0rd0-R666. With a second link. Another survey clarified that this report sheet contained nothing about the _deepest reason_ for the dead, just merely the record of the post mortem. A bit frustrated, he clicked the next link and was granted with an 'access denied' -popup.

"Now what? What's so classified that even I'm not allowed to read it?" his temper was at the edge of a volcano. The nag screen asked for officer codes, which had not been needed for entering the previous information. Shrugging, he typed in his Star Command authoritive passwords. Yet, it was very evident now that a normal pedestrian could not just log in and study these things. Not every blob or galactic squid had such statuses.    

Nonetheless, it appeared that Buzz was accepted in. Though, the contents that were slammed in front of him, made him raise a brow. The loading page consisted of scanned papers someone had scribbled with a rather messy handwriting, dated about as old as the Pion case. No-one had cared to clean-write them with a computer, but they had been left to drafts? Weird, definitely. But Lightyear had possibly now reached the final aim of his curiosity. Squinting his eyes, tilting his head rightwards in order to read the askew letters, he began murmuring once more. "_The information heard from the unofficial sources may finally explain the unsolved homicides of tens of Kaonian natives that have occurred during the last few decades. Long it has been rumored about the existence of a certain kind of cult that has targeted its attacks mainly towards the Gray Morphean race. The unnamed source that has been contacted by Agent K-2, has informally received a small amount of information from a possible turncoat; also it has been announced that the original source has fled the planet. Thus there is no certain guarantee if the enclosed is one hundred percent fact..._"

The captain blinked his eyes. _Informal?_ Behind all these passwords was nothing _formal_ at all? What the heck was this supposed to be? Yet, the text went on. "_According to K-2, the turncoat was an associate member of an underground cult called Nex Crucio, also alternatively known as Red Ribbon or Death Viper. Its target appears to be to excite racial hatred against the Grays, and promote radically Human race hegemony. The turncoat can not name the head leaders, but has given a list of names applying to minor members_..." He skipped a few lines, and got his pupils fixed on a pencil sketch that presented an unknown individual dressed in a peculiar outfit. He was wearing heel-length black robes with an external cape attached to them, its hood however pulled aside. The man was holding a staff of some sort, carved in the form of a ready-to-bite viper. Beside the picture was scribbled some notes about the image, declaring that it was an illustration of the official ceremony outfit of a Nex Crucio member. The snake stick was an efficient weapon, the script told it could blaze forth green-wavelength laser added with plasma pulses. Frequencies going from stun to kill.

The last few scanned, rather messy papers narrated much nothing else but about the torture ways of the cult. And contained some very faint information of how the killers so effectively beclouded their tracks, so that it was extremely difficult to find any fingerprints or foreign DNA traces from the victims. They seemingly used some by then unknown technological innovations for their sneaky-evil operations. The bottom rows were jabber about their assumed headquarters. K-2 was sure that they had a very large hidden base somewhere in Kaon's district, possibly enforced with T-ray radar interferators so that it could not be detected with common environmental scanners. Around five miles measured from somewhere towards some indefinite direction deep in the Xi Muon forest. Much more data there was not to provide, no external links to newer reports. 

He reshaped his pose in the chair. No wonder the issue of Nex Crucio was rather unknown nowadays, just living in rumors and ghost stories. These pencil-written papers were the single evidence of the whole thing Lightyear had ever seen, and even they existed only behind a mountain of passwords. Was it really so that this part of history had been purposefully wiped away from the public archives? Though... that kind of things had happened uncountable times during the galactic history. This time it only touched Buzz rather closely. Or, so he took it at the moment as it was a part of his hometown. Yet, so disturbing and disgusting it felt indeed.

His oculars scanned the sheets once more through. There was one link left that he had not opened. It directed him to the hand-written list of some names that had been given by the traitor. Rather carelessly he had a dekko of it, nonetheless a few seconds later remaining frozen to gape at a woman's name in the mid-section. Zira-Jezebehl Lightyear.

-------

Yoka-hanen had had a calm midday back at the Lightyear household. No haunted noises had possessed the rooms. The only peculiar thing that had occurred, was the weirder than weird death of the bedroom's verdant hibiscus. It had turned all brown, and dropped all its leaves onto the floor. She could find no logical reason for this, nor why the jardinière's mould smelled like strong coffee.

By the early afternoon, most of the packages had been done. The Indian had no planet-sized fortune, and perhaps there was no use for a crossbow, or axe, or metal cauldrons in the place where they were going. She was about to climb upstairs to get some of her parcels down, when there doorbell rang. Yoka pursed somewhat, wondering. Possibly the postman again with some larger mail. She pressed the slide-door opener on the hall wall, wincing though as the entrance zoomed open.

"Buzz?" she tilted her head. A man stood grinning in the open doorway, leaning casually against the doorframe. But had he not said he would be sweating at his office until the evening? In that case, why was Proud Crescent perching there now, leisure clothes on and without a keycard? 

"Yu home now alre-eedy?" she asked slightly astonished, being however pleased to see him this early. "I done pack-eets and theere..."

"Yea yea", the male interrupted, a tint of impatience in his tone. "Lunch hour, went for a walk. Wanna come with, tootsie? Got something interesting. Packets can wait." He curved his mouth into a weirdish grimace.

She crumpled for a nanosecond. _Tootsie_? What the drat was that supposed to mean? He never had called her that way before, not at least as she recollected. As she cast her regard on the person lounging there, she noticed an obscure gleam in his eyes. As if behind his pupils had been emotions, or something that did not actually belong to her owner. A slight sense of discomfort wriggled up her nerves, but shrugging admitted that she had nothing against a small promenade. The weather was sunny, serene outside. And she had enjoyed her lunch, so why not. "I get thii thingee the translateer if wait yu..."

"I don't think we need that." A snap, and her hand was snatched in his one. The touch was not gentle at all, moreover commanding, rather harsh. Startled Yoka faced his visage below. They were as if endeavoring to carry a semi-bland smirk, but failed somewhat to make it one-hundred percent plausible. And before she had uttered any comments, he had banged the door shut and was dragging her out of the garden and next along the sand path.

"Wheere we-e go?" she gave a hesitating pant of broken English. His walkspeed was unnaturally fast, forcing her to jog in order to keep up with it. The meters went onwards, and his hand's grasp had begun to hurt. No answer, simply a half-cunning side-glance faced her. The macadam rattled heatedly under her bare soles, as his steps seemed only to accelerate their already peppery pace. This whole thing had little by little started to feel like a mistake. Why was Buzz like that?

"Buzz? I pleese like know where we-e..." 

"Oh you'll see it then. Got a li'l surprise for you back there..." a chuckle retorted.

"But..."

"Ahh you just love the forest, eh? Got something to show you, so why all the whining?" some more knowledge was given. But it did not comfort her awareness at all, in addition that there was a minor taste of insult in the sentence. The grip of those thick, strong fingers stayed even more aching. A white serpent of fear crept suddenly along Yoka's backbone. Something was wrong either with Buzz or with this whole rushing towards the green misty trees ahead. And, she abruptly recalled the vision seen in the house, the case of the wardrobe. _He had a same kind of glint in his eyes as then._

"Buzz... I no want go I..." she gave a nervous objection. If he wanted to show her something, why not to tell it in a gentle way? 

"Oh sure you want to go, tootsie. Got time to pack later." Another yank of her arm. The edge of the woods was only a few tens of meters ahead. The male had taken a sidetrack that leaded to a narrow hole in the dead-end fence, a rocking board put over the furrow to serve as a fancy bridge. She pursued forced, with an acid taste on her palate. She could not go on objecting her owner, could she? In the strict tradition jungle of Kaleva, the husband's word was a law for the _vaimo_. Whatever whim would then spin around the hubby's mossy scull. And well... Buzz had these odd vagaries from hour to hour, Yoka could not deny that. But _this_ -now and here- had somehow started feeling more like one of those appalling chases she had had with the ghoul.

"What yu show want me?" she inquired once more, as they rushed through the coppice towards the beginning firs. A meter... ten... twenty... hundred... nothing happened. How deep were they going to spurt? She started experiencing more and more helplessness. Her small hand was almost numb in that coarse clutch. The light grew scarcer and scarcer... She was stumbling to the roots and stones, but his long strides were even, balanced. How on earth was he able to keep that pace on in this very bumpy terrain? Usually Yoka won the running races with him, since being far much taller and had longer legs than Buzz. Now, because of some reason, it seemed to be the opposite.

She cast a leer towards his feet, when there was a patch of plain, grassless soil under them. Then, a shrill scream escaped from her throat. He looked like as if walking, but his boots did not even touch the ground! The man literally traipsed in the air, the shoe bottoms only skimming lightly the fallen fir needles below. How had she not spotted this before? Everything was wrong; either this person -or thing, or whatever- was not Buzz. Or then it was the schizoid, evil half of him that apparently kept hiding under gentle cover. She ripped her hand free, pushed fiercely the momentarily surprised man aside, and began in blind panic to run back.

But that did not last for long. Behind her, the male had suddenly risen up to hover high in the air, taking next a lightning-fast sweep down towards her. She could not see behind her back, how he fumbled his pocket, and fished out something that looked like a silvery staff with a snake's head on the top of it.

"You're going nowhere!" Her ears caught an icy curse. For a microsecond, she saw a flash of green light in the corner of her eye. Then, a pain, an excruciating pain greater than anything she had ever experienced, filled her every body part. It stabbed like a hundred daggers being stung into her flesh at the same time. Then... it was all black. She felt falling... falling... falling... into a limp swamp of nothingness.

-----

The darkness had fallen. Buzz whizzed towards his white tower with his speeder. Ah, how pleasant the cozy home would feel, finally, after the confusing workday... The last hours had been like jogging in a fen; every gait leaded deeper inside the tacky, sanious bewilderment. Once again, his overactive curiosity had caused harm. The whole issue of Nex Crucio... indeed, a piece of the city's history had been almost extirpated. Perhaps people had wanted to forget... just like Mr. Hadron had whispered. And the name in the age-old backslider's list. _Lightyear_. Another dark Lightyear. A minor member, but still... it abhorred Buzz to even consider that someone of his ancestors would have participated in such things. And he had always believed in the virtuousness of his family, and furthermore wanted to believe. But there had been also Zurg. And Mizar. 

He tried pushing the bleak sentiments aside and concentrate on other topics. Hopingly his Yoka would be on a good mood... in the morning she had been such a sunshine, beaming with her wide smile. No call had come during the day. Obviously everything was all right; her strange fears hopefully had blanched away and no more eerie noises had been heard. He could start his luggage-packing, and thus the mates could merrily blast off towards Capital Planet tomorrow morning. 

In the garage he tapped off the vehicle, locking it. The lights were on downstairs, but no-one rushed to hug him at the opened front door. "Yoka? I'm home..." he hollered, "Wouldcha come to me...?" But no response, just the shady eventide's silence glided in the hall. Shrugging, he started wandering around the rooms. The living-room was empty. So was the kitchen and the backrooms of the first floor.  He searched the garden, and the rest of the floors. The woman was nowhere; she seemed to have vanished like a coin dropped in the Atlantic Ocean. Assumingly not even hiding, but just plain gone. He was getting utterly nervous. His wife _was_ supposed to be at home, had they not planned to leave tomorrow? Or had she gone to visit one of the neighbors, or what kept her vanished? His regard abruptly met the girl's lonely wrist communicator on the hall's hover table. She would go _nowhere_ without that. A nasty cold tumult wriggled in his stomach. Had something... _serious_ occurred?

Buzz decided to attach his boots back and go for an ask-tourney around the neighborhood. Yet... just at the moment a faint knock was heard from the front door. The Captain's heart jumped up to his throat. That had to be she! Though... why not to use the keycard, if...

He slid the door open with a rough sweep. But he faced only the empty garden path, the yellow lamp crystals riding in the air above the grass, the black willows obscuring the view further on. Plainly no-one stagnated there, the least of all Yoka-hanen. Scratching his hair in blank wonder, Buzz glanced at the both sides of the flat scala in front of the entrance. Who had knocked? Nevertheless... was there something attached to the doorframe...? It looked like a piece of birchbark at first sight, but as Lightyear loosened the tiny pin that was keeping it fixed, he understood it being a slice of parchment. Something he had seen only in museum displays. Who the jumping Linux-penguin possessed _parchment_ these days? And what was more, there was some scribble in it.

He brought it in the light, squinted, and read the bizarre text with a low voice. "_I am anywhere and everywhere, nowhere to be seen._ _In the mirror maybe you can meet you and me._  _What is precious to you, will be gone at first. And no one will hear, when you cry out loud and finally burst._"

Buzz blinked, many times, as if his eyes had produced glue and were in danger to get fastened shut for forever. Was someone harshly joking at the cost of him? He scrutinized again at the handwriting, shrugging. It looked artificially theatrical, as if someone had hard tried imitating complex hieroglyphs, failing pathetically. There was something distantly familiar in that scrawling, he though, while turning the writing upside down and back to its own position. The message however was odd, frightening, though almost naively bombastic and stupid with the mismatching rhymes and all. What was it supposed to mean? And still no sign of Yoka. Only the night fell deeper...

...to be continued...


	9. Night of despair

Pertrification. 

What had happened?

Where was Yoka?

Buzz stood furthermore on the porch, the small piece of parchment in his hand. A light wind gushed in the bushes. But all around, only the darkness domineered. No soul whispered in the shadows.

Shiftlessness. Nervousness. Those had little by little crawled in his heart. This all... seemed to be far much more than just a joke. Why had she been in such panic the previous times... feared something unactual? But was it that there actually _was_ something? A cobweb of feeble assumptions... with no logical tracks.

Mind bathing in blankness, Buzz roamed once or twice around the house. But there was nothing logical. Nothing to be seen. Only the same bushes and trees that had come together with the purchase. The stump of the birk she had logged. Emptiness... Through the backdoor, he slouched gradually in. These minutes in such irresolution... why did they feel like hours, like decades? That picture on the wall...

Lightyear blinked. Yes, dad. He would need to call his father. That would be the first rational task to do. If his girl was not to appear, neither there would be a depart tomorrow. Moreover... if -after a levelheaded time of waiting- Yoka would not appear home, perhaps he would need Zurg's help. It was surprising, how now and just now, it was one of the rare situations when Buzz felt rather perplexed. How could that be possible for a brave space ranger? Years, eras he had built his legend, fought evil with gleam and glory. And in most tricky occasions having a plan ready in his mind.

But... nothing like this had occurred before. There had been no person like _she_ walking along with the pace of his steps... No. Training for circumstances equal to this they did not give at Star Command.

Then again... perhaps nothing had happened. Perhaps... but, then again... Hardly blinking he stood at the hall table. Her small wrist communicator rested still on the glossy surface. She would go nowhere without that, that was a fact.

"Alright. I'm calling dad and then go to ask the neighbors. Blast, straighten up yourself, Buzz Lightyear!" he grunted out loud, and slammed his fist against his other palm. Soon the palm-portable vidphone replaced that clenched hand. _Beep beep__ beep..._ It took a while before Zora's rather snarly face appeared in the screen. His water-dripping hair was glued onto his forehead, and half of his face was covered with lilac shaving cream.

"Son? I would appreciate it, if you would not on purpose call when my evening bath-shave is having its summit. I tolerate no stubble, no surplus beard hair in a wrong spot. No day, no night. Tsup. Ditto." In the background, a grub handed him a small towel. Beginning to wipe his face into it, he continued, "Then... at what time shall you be here tomorrow, Son? You shall recall that I am counting the hours according to Planet Z time. An old sweet dandy tradition I shall not leave behind."

"Dad... I'm not sure if we're coming tomorrow." Buzz hesitated, "I... I don't know, but something strange has happened."

Zurg's dark eyes stood adamant.

"I came home, Yoka was supposed to be here with everything ready. But she wasn't here and then someone had left me this odd messag..." He was to bring the parchment forth, but just at the moment, the doorbell rang.

"Wait up, someone's at the door." Lightyear blurted and darted to the hall. It, it had to be she, now!

But... what to encounter? A scene similar to what had faced him earlier today. Only the twinkle of pale stars mocked him above, as he dumbly peered at the empty yard. No-one there. In a reflex, as a relic of past's weirdness, his regard shifted itself towards the doorframe's right side. And there... No, it could not be.

_There was another piece of parchment attached with a small pin_.

Heart pounding like a kettledrum, Buzz ripped the message open. He remained to stare at a few lines written in an angry tone.

'_Let's leave the rhymes, shall we? So, go on and finish the call. We're not telling tales to dad. Let this be a secret only between us two. And the more you will blab on, the more she will suffer. And we would not want that, would we?_'

Broken exhales left his lungs. This was no joke anymore. This was a threat. Someone... something... had taken Yoka away? Over and over again his aghast oculars scanned through the letter. That same handwriting... only turned clearer now.

_It looked like as if he himself had written it._

What?

Why?

And how did someone know he was just at the moment discussing with his father?

Cold wriggles churning in his stomach, the man returned in. He... could not go on with the phonecall? This... whoever it was, was blackmailing, putting Lightyear in the hard pressure of pliers. _Leave it as a secret?__ She will suffer?_ The screech in his head told the consequences even too clearly. If he would now and here yell out the whole story to Zurg, something terrible would happen to his wife?

A pallid fog of blur hazed his vision, flickering, sizzling. His new life... it was all supposed to be so calm! His precious sanctuary here, where he could have had relaxed and learned to know his dearest. This white, clean house... what did it hide inside itself? Who spied him?

As being locked in the cage of fear's oppression, Lightyear did his choice. He would not mess anyone else in this, but handle the fight face to face with the faceless. However... nothing could shield the expression glistening in his eyes, his lopsided wry smile, when his visage was back at the vidphone.

"Son, what was it? What is going on over there? What were you going to tell me?" Zora went on continuing the discussion.

"Ahh... emm... nothing. N-never mind. W-we won't be coming t-tomorrow ye---˝ the younger male giggled his back sweating. This play did not convince Zurg. Rather much only agitated the elder's sudden graveness.

"Buzz? What is going on? Do not lie to your father!"

"Ahh nothing. R-really. All is fine. I gotta go now. Bye!" Buzz panted and closed the comlink despite that the old emperor had almost a volcano-sized tantrum on the other side. Pressing his forehead against his palm, he snapped completely off the phone line. That guy would call again... and he needed to stay at least a shard of time in peace. Just to think, think, think... No outside persons to interfere. For her sake... and...

_"Hehehe.__ Well done, Lightyear."_ A voice rang out of nowhere, as if answering cruelly to the Morphean's dilemma.

Buzz swung around, eyes flown wide. What was that? 

"Who's there?" he yelped and grabbed the nearest stool for his possible defense.

_"Hahahaha.__ How pathetic...the little do-gooder Buzz Lightyear bathing in sweat and fear... hahahah. Just what I've wanted to see..."_ the voice swept around the connected rooms, hovering nearer the panicky household's host. The cackle of the invisible Shadow.

The man stood like a fossil on his spot. Was he listening to his own voice? That tone was exactly similar to his one... excluding the dark and vile tint. "W--what are you? Did you cause this all to Yoka and me? Are you the one that left those blasted messages?" Regardless of the eerie climate, he did not utterly lose his nerves.

_"Good guess... perhaps it was me. Or perhaps it was you..."_

"Me? What the blazes...?" the ranger clenched his fists, foam coming out of his mouth. To whom was he actually talking? To something imaginable... something coming from beyond borders? No... ghosts did not exist. Dead were dead. "Why are you doing this? What the heck are you? WHERE'S MY WIFE?"

_"Why...? Oh, the little innocent questions of the naïve puny Buzz Lightyear... why? Why? Hahahaha! Because! Why! Because!"_

"What kind of lunatic are you? That doesn't make any sense!" the Captain had a hard time to understand such pointless laughter. "What do you want from me?"

Suddenly a whisper came right at Buzz' ear. A whisper drawled in such an icy tone that it could have frozen the living flames of a sun.

_"I want to see you crawl..."_

In a reflex faster than lightning, the ranger smashed the chair to the prompt's direction. In vain. The stool hit the empty floor meters ahead. A gush of air brushed above him, together with a silent cackle. The French horn leading to the garden was flung open by a hidden hand.

So, the hit had missed the ghost? But a quick thought revealed that a phantasm it was not. This, whatever it was, was attempting an escape. And since when had illusive spooks used _doors_ for such purposes? They _ghosted_, like his former teammate. A rational thinker could in flash spot effective details. Hence, Buzz leapt after the runaway. If only he could block it before...

But no. Just when he had approached the backdoor's threshold, the booty was gone. Only the night's darkness was left to jeer at him. The dark-blue murks... and the lonely tear of rage glimmering on his cheek.

--------------

The thirtieth time. No answer. Only the busy signal of a disconnected comlink line. Exhaling deep, Zurg switched off his own com channel. Nothing. Practically nothing could be retrieved from Morph's direction.

He stood up, straightened his pose. His teeth were pressed tight together, his bushy black brows crumpled over the narrowed eyes. The grooves of the cheeks deepened, as the expression hardened to steel on that face of age and discerning. As if his whole body, his whole being would be feeling the air around, trying to sense the subtle elements...

The door of the room creaked. A slender figure tiptoed in, carrying a worried shade.

"Zetapoo?" It piped nervously.

"My son", the man produced a deep grunt, "Lied to me."

"Lied?"

"Yes! Lied to his father! I felt it. A disturbance..." the emperor stagnated rigid in all his might. "The dark side is arising..."

------------------

The night still crawled forwards in Kaon's forest. The song of cicadas muffled the whirr of air under its tunes. Sweeping past the underbrush, swaying the grass flat underneath, a torrent of wind breezed in the middle of the thick trees. Such a bluster was not a normal phenomenon of nature. No... the shadow of avenge fleeted rapidly towards his fortress. Away, away his foe's house... a house he had turned to an incubus of despair.

Hard it had become to see forwards. The blear chasm of sky that had escorted the copse with a lumen of stars, was gone. Now the massive oaks stretched their arms everywhere, and eloined the light.

The whirlwind ceased with a groan. A pair of feet softly descended on the dry fir needles beneath. A gray line of path meandered near there... yes, he was going to the right direction but still needed a star to guide the way.

Like before, the mere darkness belched out a shade interwoven in the same tapestry of ink and black. A gushof cape, and something gray disappeared inside it, while something else appeared out. A lantern, which was immediately lit. Forceful enough this opaque light was to show that the lumps of murky mass around here did indeed have an outlining.

"That stupid Lightyear..." the pile of robes bethought itself, "Slowly, slowly I will melt him in my grasp. It starts to be ready in my head... of how to release my revenge. But still, still... I need time, some more. On the other hand... the slower it goes, the funnier it is to see him gradually breaking down. The joy of mind's torture, heheheh..."

While gloating a tad too enthusiastically, the robed figure was not skimming the reality. The green lantern in his hand, he took a step. One step... the boot under the flowing black hems touched the ground. Next, the whole composition just flopped down. A noisy growl of pain reached the nearby night owls.

"Blast..." the shadow puffed, as if the single fall had caused excruciating ache. The light was half-sunken in the nearby shrubbery. Still, in its feeble rim could be seen how laborious it was for this antagonist to get up. He took support from the close tree trunk, and found finally a balance.

"Darn it... why won't the legs still carry me? My other bones ossified back, why did the legs remain that weak? Lightyear... you destroyed me... this is all your fault! Zurg and you. And your pathetic team. And that Zurg... promises, promises. And he NEVER came back to me. He was a liar like everyone else."

The figure fumbled his other sleeve. His fingers picked out something looking like a tiny remote control. A few wires were attached to it, and they continued inside the broad wristband.

Click. Immediately the man of mystery rose up to hover in the air. Obviously under his robes some kind of device had received an electrical command. Or so it had looked like. Fast the menace moved again. A dive, and the lantern was back in his hand. To aid the way... towards the partly burned rocks deep inside the woods.

The mossy, broken pillars were surrounding the lonely night crawler. This square was like a home to the Shadow, or actually more than that. It was his home, of all the places in this world. Nowhere else to go... but only to hide. This plaza of the old destroyed fortress gave him an asylum. Yet... it was a refuge breathing ancient evilness besides this man who was resurrected almost from ashes. Glory, gone. Majesty, gone. But the Shadow still had his life left... even if it was a course of a handicapped. But perhaps he could retrieve something back. In his dark, soulless mind he hoped, hoped...

The robes hovered towards the rear part of the square. By passed stones that Yoka had once admired here, during her unfortunate hunting trip. At the last nook, where a primeval, colossal willow rustled, he bent down to touch a rock. A glove grazed a carved snake head...

A hollow clack. The tree burst out to live. A dark square appeared onto the massive trunk. The outline of an evident door. Shaded normally by the gray bark, it remained generally invisible. However now its masquerade was over and it would give way to its master. The new master of Nex Crucio's destroyed hideout.

The gate closed as hollowly as it had opened. The Shadow swept down a moldy staircase. Here and there, tree roots pierced the once so finely carved walls. Centipedes and other small insects crawled fast away to escape the rim of light. Those crippled children of the eternal night stood no lumen.

It had to be tens of meters under the earth, when the dark one stopped. Anteriorly was a stone door, nevertheless far much cleaner as the general tomb-like environment. Evidently it was used rather often. Also quite smoothly it glided aside when commanded, to reveal rooms and crypts of more space. But was not all this supposed to be destroyed...? Bombed, burned, annihilated to scrap? Perhaps they were only the coulisses... and the reality had stood elsewhere. Who is there to see beyond, if the eye cannot see? And even, even today the old layers upon the subterranean stone chambers allowed not to be penetrated by many common scanners. The secrets would remain... would they?

No footsteps clanged in the empty vaults. Dust flew out of the way in small clouds as the Shadow floated past. His eyes in the depths of his hood remained attached to one sealed side door for a moment. "That pathetic doctor. Could've healed me. I know he could have. But it was his poor choice not to obey me. Tried to escape... how pathetic. It was his choice to die. Oh well, not my problem any more. Probably that stupid blockhead's turned to bones and rags by now..."

No empathy, no emotion was in that gleaming regard. It stared at the closed room a moment, then shifted elsewhere. Half a year ago, the entrance to that chamber was firmly sealed up. Desperate yells had echoed from there a few days after that... then silence had fallen. The prisoner had withered away. What was behind that rock nowadays, could not bewail any longer.

After enough of wandering, the premises turned gradually ever cleaner. The forthcoming rooms definitely looked like as if someone had lodged there a good amount of time. There were tables and shelves with piles of every-day items on them; books, clothes, fast-food wrappers, unwashed dishes, and so on. Also, the lantern was futile here. Blearily aglowing little stones placed in small wall-niches lit the spaces just adequately. The man stopped to pull his robes away. A good suit they were, but not really coming in need here. This was his haven, and no one forbid him moving around as himself, in the comfy leisure attire he had stolen from Buzz' wardrobe.

"Let's see how the chick gets along... I'll keep her alive for a while still." The marauder picked up a package of potato chips with a water bottle from one shelf. "Possibly still unconscious. Well, it's her problem if she won't wake." The lantern was culled also back. Where he would go next, there the darkness reigned again.

A while passed, and the Shadow had hovered to a floor even lower. Regarding the chains in walls, the bars, and the heavily locked doors, this seemed to be an age-old prison. The air had turned even danker as it had been upper there. The smell of decaying matter and fungus was everywhere. One door at the end of a short side alley was his target. There was a thick set of bars, then an enclosed mural right behind it. However, as the system started sliding open, it could be seen that the claustrum was just one part of the well-reinforced entrance.

Astern of it, was a small cell with one habitant. The uneven walls glowed electric-blue phosphorescent light. On the dusty floor was sitting Yoka-hanen, hugging her knees. She stormed up as the wall began sliding aside. And even darker a storm blazed up in her eyes as she saw who came in. That man with that devilish grin... the schizoid side of Proud Crescent. Any more sure she could not be of anyone's identity. All it was such a blur... however, it appeared to be a fact that the male to whom she was given, was mentally sick. Like a dog she snarled at this evil creature. He had hit her with something, still the pain was stinging in her every limb. That flash of green light, then there had been the wrench. In this cubicle the girl had woken up only a while ago.

"Awake already?" the man sneered. He threw the food packages on the floor. "Fine. Eat. May be your last supper ever. Hehehehe."

This was the last drop for her. No tears appeared in her eyes in spite of the extreme rage her heart suddenly expressed. That quote had been a threat of _killing her_, had it not? Oh, how mild the promises had been yesterday... to end her suffering... end the suffering _this way_? That figure standing in front of her, its face, its voice, its expressions... just like the demon in Kaleva. Yet with tons of more maliciousness added to that. No, this was the line of her toleration.

One swing, jump, and a few powerful kicks. Out of the blue the villain was lying on the floor, his throat screeching an ear-splitting moan. Yoka had aimed a double-kick right underneath his knees to trip him, and a third one upper to crash down that peril completely. The doorway was open, what could hinder her from escaping? 

Oh, the false optimism... 

Recklessly she dashed into the blackness, as if being able to find a way out in a second. As a native Kalevan, her vision in dark was extremely good. But in a catacomb like this, it failed. Hardly even an owl could have found a getaway only with the aid of its eyes. But, the fear and hatred blinded. Shrouded sometimes the possibilities to grasp beyond the near seconds. Thus in the unfortunate haste, the lantern was forgotten.

Behind there, the Shadow had received back his pose. An unimaginable ache throbbed in his legs, but despite that, he picked up the light and plunged out.

"Darned woman! You'll pay for this!" he foamed like a rabid mongrel, "You can maybe hide a while, but I'll find you..."

Somewhere, deep in the murk, Yoka pushed herself flat against a cold wall, panting. What was this horrible place? A copy of Suur-Kaleva? Where the underground, buried houses sang their lores of death... and here, the mildewy stinking alleys had no exit?          

 

**...to be continued...**


	10. Worries of the old emperor

_Slam._

A wall boomed shut. The little cubicle shimmering bluish light was left in its own solitude. Somewhere behind that stone barricade, a shade of evilness floated cursing away. Once more this bleak room had received a habitant. Yoka. Despite all the brave attempts to flee, she was trapped again.

An illusionary time the girl had in half-panic ran along the underground tunnels. All the light had vanished, it was a tag of murk and blindness. _His_ curses, raved with a cold, emotionless voice, had echoed somewhere behind her. Occasionally they had vanished, occasionally dreadfully approached the refugee. The way was nothing but headless roaming. By feeling about the walls with her hands, Yoka-hanen had survived to rush rather far away from the horrors of that cell. Although... was there any difference between the places? The air grew moldier second by second, the stone walls were covered with something disgustingly slimy and lardy. The floor under her bare soles was cold and slippery, also full of that soft mossy mucus. Spider webs often glued onto her face, putting her to spit in abhorrence. But she had set her mind to find a getaway... until the evitable horror had happened.

She had abruptly encountered light. And there that monster had stood, or rather hovered. A lantern swung in his grasp. The blear lumen painted a grin of devil on the Shadow's face. If there thus far had been even a crumb of false humanity left, now all that had vanished. There was no blueness any more in those irises. The pupils had reduced into two black holes that greedily sparkled sadistic brutality.

It was obvious that the crypt had been a maze. With corridors leading to who knew where. But perhaps that fiend knew it by heart...

And so... it was just an unequal battle, although the fierce woman put her full strength to oppose that sick beast calling himself Buzz Lightyear. But from somewhere the Shadow had picked up his one and only weapon, that weird stick producing green light of hurt. Zap. Blast. All over and over again, with the abominable cackling symphony ringing in the background, the silvery viper's mouth had spat out a pulse of pain. As the shoots went onwards, the grin on the man's face only widened, enjoying every screech of wrench the woman squalled as the laser-plasma hit her. Soon she was writhing on the floor on her fours as the pain took over. It was all deliberate torture, that demon wanted to avenge every single smart she had caused him. From the first hit of his arm in the house... to the kicks that were aimed to his already weak legs.

The Shadow's mind had turned back to the old memories he still cultivated in his twisted soul. This had been his joy, always his joy, to see innocent people screaming and crawling in front of him. But year by year, the sadistic thirst for violence had only grown more macabre. It had been a while he had seen someone shrieking and crying like this. Thus the sick enjoyment in his black heart grew second by second. One more shot, and one more... still one more... until the girl had become silent.

A few moments later, the Kalevan was thrown back in her old prison. With a moan, she had received her consciousness back. Yet, the dark world swirled in her eyes like some morbid merry-go-round. When the wall slid back, weakly she attempted rising up. The wrench was stinging, something acid burned in her muscles. But the road was blocked also by a second means; tight-tied ropes had appeared around her wrists and ankles.

The woman's mind stormed amidst the physical and emotional misery. So beautiful and sweet had been the words... love, softness, warmth...? And all that was left, was that icy hoot dancing around her head. Proud Crescent wanted to finish her off and for sure?

_"I'd never hurt you..." _

Beautiful lies, had they been just that? Beautiful, sugar-coated lies...

And if only she had known and understood, that the darkness overruling here was not the mellow space ranger Buzz Lightyear, who had fallen deeply in love with her.

In his own small berth, the Shadow sat down to snarl and think. He had loosened his boots, and carefully wrapped his trouser legs up. His legs felt almost numb below the kneeline, the skin getting yellowish-blue with a visible speed. Capillaries broke apart on their own. A great pain spread upwards from the leg muscles that still had some sensation left.

This bad his lower limbs had not been in ages. Not since he fell down the main staircase after the treedoor, and broke his both shinbones. Then, with his last strength, balancing listlessly on those hover boots that were his only hope and aid, he had zoomed to the village. The bluest night it had been... there was a lonely house near the forest's edge. Doctor Nameless, the initials and everything long time ago blanched away from the foe's memory, had resisted his time. But under the command of the viper cane, even he had fallen. And voluntarily walked the miles in the dark bushes beneath the Shadow's eye. Equilibrium of terror had lasted a while; then the doctor's cooperation had turned fruitless. A few tense cures were the result, to return the peril's legs at least to the state they had been before the accident. Weak, yes, but still so firm that he was able stand without needing to seek for support from a walking-stick.

Under his breath, the male cursed hard. So much for help... with the aid of the modern iatrology and chirurgery, it was easy to rebuild offals, bones, or almost anything, generally in a blink of eye -compared to the methods used thousands of years ago. This world was no different from the Shadow's one; the technology was the same. The only catastrophic dissimilarity was, that _he_ was not the same. Only a weak, pathetic shell...

Then, the cooperation had been gone. If there was no cooperation, the chances of healing up grew scarce. And not even forced cooperation. Doctor Nameless was stubborn... and decayed. 

"Cursed woman..." he gurgled, spit dripping from his grimacing mouth, "I never understood that that chick was this strong. But she'll pay... pay a portion more tomorrow. Hmm... there's no point of actually killing her. If she's dead, she won't scream, she can't feel pain any longer if she's dead..."

He took an ampule, containing some liniment, from the nearby table. Ailing it was to rub it on the shanks, but perhaps it could help... at least a bit. No bones seemed to be shattered, that was the good news of the day.

"Blast... Who'd known that osteoporosis would lead me to the awakening doom...?" the male heaved a sigh, "I don't know... was it a curse or a blessing that I fell in hypersleep after I barely escaped the quakes... I had my suit, I didn't die. But craters, this is still almost like death, to creep here pathetically like a worm in mould... But who the heck has artificial gravitation generators in _space suits_, anyways? No gravitation, blam, already a few months in vacuum weaken the pathetic mortals. And why do I, I have to be one of those? I'd deserve more! Glory, immortality, supreme reign! And here I'm in some stinking dungeon with partial myasthenia and my too-frail bones! Craters!"

While chasing the Indian, he had neglected the handicaps. But now the understanding was given that at least a few days were needed rest, before he should dive out of the fortress. If he would go and oppose Lightyear in this state, he might err to do some fatal mistakes. Perhaps even reveal himself, which definitely was not an option yet.

Nonetheless, his secrets were safe. No-one could find this place. It had stood hundreds of years silent amidst the ancient greenness. And so it would furthermore stand and seal the riddles firmly in its chest.

--------------

The hours leaked too fast into sand. Buzz sat, frozen in a living-room chair. His thoughts had jammed in the bottom of a black swamp. Only slush of sorrow was around, mire that obliged him to sink deeper every time a tiny ray of sun reached the bed of this obscure hammock.

Options. What were those?

He would not mess anyone else in this.

It was just between him and that... that _what_? It had no name. Only that sick cackle and childish riddles. And how was it possible that... that something invisible was almost like _him_?

Buzz' cranial gearwheels rolled and rustily grated under the pressure of despondence. He had to be facing a Lightyear, or something equal. A distant relative? His whole family bathed in such a fog, he knew only a shard of his nearest kindreds. And still a while ago, not even them. His father had been gone twenty-six years... and what was it with these names he had heard just recently? Mizar and the alike... such dark, merciless individuals. As if the goodness in them had been fully strangled and choked. What could it mean, this all...? One logical conclusion was that demons equal to Mizar existed more. And someone knitted revenge against the Captain. Next, the questions fell down from the heavens as hot flaming stones. 

_Why_?

Nonetheless, had Mizar's case had any real logic behind it? Money was the motive, but clearly nothing else. Had Zurg had motives? Surprisingly enough, he had had more. Also money, but added to emotional causes.

One of the space ranger's flaws perhaps was that he always sought for motives and logical tapestries behind everything. However, what if the logic did not exist? What if there were _no_ motives?

Buzz absently glanced at the near hover table. A clock stood on it, grinning with the symbols 3:40 am. He winced. All that time he had just squatted here, without eating, without drinking. Just waiting for something to happen, deliberated the foe's strategies. The latter impasse seemed less hazy than everything else. The menace seemed to carry a decent strategy, though. And that was one of the oldest ways to break someone's neck; to strike at first the loved ones and then crush down the hero. A stereotypical cliché, but darkly efficient.

The dawn whitened, turning to morning. The sun climbed above the zenith, and gradually started falling back beyond the world's edge. Buzz waited, blankly, waited for the rival's next move. Yet, it seemed to dawdle, as if nothing was going to occur. A message, anything, more parchment... but as the tide started dusking, sweat drops of nervousness were back on his forehead.

Normal villains would come and give more threats, blackmailing, anything. And this definitely was not a joke. Yoka did not come back, how much Lightyear ever did rend his hair. That sneaky invisible larva should have contacted him... Abruptly the Captain recalled that he had plugged off his every com device. Even his own wrist communicator. In order to prevent any outsiders getting involved with this. If it was to be one of those common strike-the-family-first schemes, no relatives or friends should be drawn along in the first place. But what if the kidnapper wanted to contact him via vidphone? What if he had missed something crucial that way?

He scampered up to activate the com channel detectors of his video phone. But for his ultimate terror, the line was already reserved when the initial activation was done. An electronic announcer voice coming from the telecommunication satellite chirped,

"Welcome back to the Hybrid-Mode Datacommunication Service of Morph Digihouse Incorporated. Since of your last login, you have been tried to contact two-hundred seventy six times. If you wish to sort the call attempts, press---"

He looked thunderstruck at the screen. All those futile calls had come from Zurg. And even now, the primary line was beeping because of an incoming message. A large ominous Z was blinking in the small monitor.

"No!" the male groaned and hit the logoff button. With one yank, the cables were loose again. "He mustn't interfere! For his own safety!" Hence the com thingamajig quieted down. So... the unknown had not used this way to swear more spells. Sitting back down, the Morphean ultimately took another point of view concerning the whole chaos.

"I need to stay calm and not let the fear take control. I'd need a plan of some kind... so that I could find this twisted pawn of evil on my own. There has to be a way to track his hideout and figure out who lurks behind the mask of aberrant invisibility! That cursed, diabolic threat who foils the honor of my family!" He scowled, expelling now with a hushed voice, "...if he's another Lightyear."

There was one and half weeks holiday left before he would need to slouch back to job. At the last moment of the notorious workday, he had been granted with a longer vacation. The time he had then reserved to console and pamper _her_... Now those days would need to be used wisely. Precisely anything could happen in their range. The hazard's tentacles could spread out and take more innocent bystanders in their merciless grasp. Or... alternatively the space ranger could make the checkmate.

If only he had known where to start... with two pieces of parchment, an unforeseen opponent prying somewhere, perhaps spying him right at the moment... and the faint knowledge of this man resembling him by some means. Yet, the latter could be a clever trick, also.

What was even real knowledge?

----------------

The time did not lend a helping hand. The earth had swallowed both Yoka and the mystery man. Buzz' free days were drained in vanity. He searched, roamed, sorted the alternatives. With no blossoms.

On Capital Planet, a second person carried worries. A snarly shade clothed Zurg's expressions. A big angry fist was slammed against a table or a chair's armrest every five minutes.

"Why does not my son answer me? How dares he treat his glorious mighty father like this? GRARRRRHHHHH!" Again his claw was ready to hit the table. This time it unfortunately had an obstacle on its way, namely a plate with a big delicious muffin on it. As expected, his hand hit the treat. Splash, the dessert exploded together with its plate, sending slushy duff all over the place. It was one of those giant-sized muffins, thus it produced also a giant amount of mess. On the floor, a little grub in tuxedo shuddered. He had brought his master a tidbit, thinking that perhaps it would calm down the fierce old man.

"But Googly Bear! What have you done! Shame on you!" Mariañ walked in the room. Zora's lower lip began quivering with shame. There were muffin crumbs in his hair, in the ceiling, on the curtains.

"Shmoopsiepoo, I am apologizing my inconsiderate behavior", he murmured, "I have irresponsibly destroyed the first prototype muffin made by my superior new innovation; The Hyper-Muffin Ray. Oh the woe! Nana Zurg would not be proud of me now. Sniff. But..." he stood up and wiped the muss off his shirt, "...I am worried about my son. Something so strange happened that night when he hung up on me. And... it was already before, when this hazardous sensation of utter darkness crawled inside my heart, the black light of abysses fell upon me..."

Either the doating Emperor was melodramatically magnifying everything, or then there was a shrimp of truth swimming among those bombastic declarations. Earlier Buzz had explained something hasty about Yoka's strange fears... then, she had obviously vanished or equal. What had been the odd intermezzo that had cut short the phone call? His scion had squirmed a tad of time later back at the vidscreen, only to hold forth sheer lies. That nervous mendacious mask had not fooled Zurg. Then... the complete stillness.

"Zurgybuns, Pudding, why wouldn't you go to find out yourself what's up? I mean, if Buzz won't answer, maybe you could go and talk face-to-face with him?" the girl suggested.

"That is Jim-kraken-dandy, what a master plan! Grub! Put that on my to-do list!" the male clicked his fingers, "First thing tomorrow! Nine o'clock was scheduled gloating and ten o'clock non-evil scheming, but I shall leave eight thirty am, Planet Z time, to Morph! Schedule the least important, but yet superiorly important, tasks later!"

The next morning rose with a blaring red sky. Crimson clouds hung below the pallid sun. A few light rays were filtered through the thick leave masses of the gigantic oaks. Somewhere in the ring of Nex Crucio's destroyed turret, a hollow clack scared a few squirrels to climb upper in the safe trees. The grass tumbled lightly under the air current, as the Shadow in his invisible form blasted off towards the dawning Kaon.

His legs still ached tremendously. Yoka had done thorough work with the kicking and further resisting. Every time the male checked out her cell, he encountered a brutish attack. There was immense strength in that ferocious woman, such physical powers that startled even him. Although her body was lanky, almost skinny, the force was deep-rooted, evolved by the decennia's hard physical work. Three times she had ripped the firm ropes off with a single snatch, and jumped to beat the living rockets out of that sick evil capturer. She hated every inch of that vile demon, willing to return every pain and ache he had caused her.

But so did the Shadow return every pain and ache. Somehow, the daily visits were like a twisted game for him. Her every scream was his exhilaration, her every tear his elation. No limits had his ill, abnormal sadistic nature. Such thing as mercy was an unknown definition for him, had always been. So many of his prays had ended up begging mercy... but what good did that do, since the Shadow could not even comprehend the classification of forgiveness. Every deed of malevolence was a challenge, a play for him. Every creeping, dying alien being a theatre show. As if his heart had been replaced with a dollop of something so disgusting that no language was able to describe it with its vocabulary. A dollop whose mere purpose was to command its owner to destroy, destroy...

Now its sick lures enchanted him to target the thunderbolts against Buzz Lightyear. Almost a week had passed him not making a contact.

The enemy reached soon the hedgerow of Buzz' yard. However... something unexpected was going on in the front yard. Loud bangs and curses echoed from there, calling the man's name who was supposed to be his bait.

_"OPEN UP! QUASARS!"_ someone wrangled.

The ghost bounced over the hedge, sweeping closer. He set himself under a lush bush that gave a panorama to the house's front. He remained staring semi-petrified at another male who was roaring anteriorly the front door. It was a sheer wonder that the gateway did not break down because of those fist hits. All over again, Zurg's big hairy hand hit the entrance's paneled surface. Small cracks appeared on it with every jolt.

"Who the heck is that...?" the invisible fiend puffed in his mind. That appearance looked so familiar, decorated with all the Lightyear family characteristics... He squinted his eyes.

It was the oil painting on Buzz' living-room wall. The person was the same. Although... in the clear daylight, clothed with that boisterous bellowing, the figure appeared far something else. Even the foe cringed somewhat as peering at that raving man. That stupid-looking egoistically grinning goof in the picture _looked normally like that?_ He had to have well over a foot more height than the younger Lightyear -or the one in the bush, since Buzz and the Shadow seemed to equal precisely with every measure.

But it was not just the height. Although the assumed 'father' had to have a good amount of years on his shoulders, his form was like some mountain. The trained body had not a single extra gram of fat; Zora's hips were as narrow as his son's, his muscles like iron. That tank would have easily overcome the lurker in a hand-to-hand combat, at least as the Shadow had his own illness still left.

"SON! OPEN UP AND NOW!" Zurg cursed with his chest-tone that was about an octave deeper than his scion's. But it seemed futile. The house stood hushed.

"Open up! How dare you lie to your father and cut the call like that? Do not try to hide pathetically like a whimpering Chihuahua who has lost its juicy bone to a bulldog! You need my help, you shall not fall back in the dark side!"

The spy winced. Yes, that pitiful Buzz Lightyear had been face to face with that beetle-browed giant about a week ago. He could have not... _found out what had happened?_

"Craters. Did that idiot go and chirp to daddy after all?" the rival snarled, clenching his fists. "But it can't be possible. I _know_ Lightyear. He wouldn't have done that. How can...?" Yet, his dark brainwork ceased abruptly. The person at the porch had stopped the thunderstorm. Zurg descended the scala down, his regard scanning the near grounds. As if his senses had tried to catch something... Out of the blue, the old man's piercing gaze was fixed right on the shrubbery where the Shadow crouched. That wrinkled expression, the stab-sharp look on those pupils appeared almost horribly penetrating. The lurker caught a minor panic. Had that weird man _seen_ him? _Somehow__ spotted him? _But it was impossible! He was generally invisible! But how did that aged Hercules walk with firm steps towards him, not shifting the goggle even a millimeter away? Startled, the Shadow stiffened, cringing more under the branches of the thick brush.

_That man halted right in front of the plant, and moved a few of its branches aside. Those dark-brown eyes were looking right through him._

However, as the Emperor observed nothing physical there, he let the twigs swing back to their natural state. A little grunt reached the peril, as the royal turned his wide back at the leaves. _"And I am sure I felt something..."_  His attendance was soon history. As the son seemingly was not at home, Zora headed back to his speeder.

A few minutes passed, and the Shadow still squatted in the shades fossilized. _What the heck__ was that old loon?_ It would be on his agenda to get rid of that buffoon eventually. He was a Lightyear, and _these_ _new-generation_ Lightyears were worth of nothing. But that one... it was nothing like the wimpy Buzz he so much despised. This one had other kind of stamina inside him, something far darker than the outer shell let assume. The lurker was aware that the eyes were the soul's mirror. Sometimes... as a younger man, he had spent epochs inspecting his looks from a looking-glass. One target of his sick self-admiration had been the glint of his deep-blue irises. So full of evilness, their gleam revealing the whole amount of his mercilessness. Ill and twisted as his mentality was, such a tiny outer-appearance thing had brought him smugness. The vileness shone through him... but how could he encounter such a phenomenon right here and now? In the regard of that weeping Buzz Lightyear's father? It was partly hidden, partly muffled, but still there. As if the actions of past had glowed through that goggle that had been literally sniffing his hideout.

Nevertheless... had not the Lightyear blood gone worthless? That irritating Buzz was such an innocent naïve angel; this was how the robed one saw his opponent. Although... it was true he had a few times before remained to stare at that huge oil painting...

"He looks like Jardaz, but he can't be _like him_. Would have received a few handclaps even from me, if he'd succeeded to accomplish things like that dead guy did in his time. Although that wimp would still be a featherweight compared to me, hehehe..."

In his weird world, the Shadow knew nowadays the Lightyear family history perhaps better than anyone else. During the dark years of solitude, alone, half-dying in the Fortress, he had had nothing but time... to read those books that the ancient shelves were full of. Volumes revealing stories obscured by eons...

Tales of utter darkness.

Clenching and again opening his fists, Zora stomped back to his speeder. Like planned, he had darted to meet his son -- only to encounter an empty house. The Captain was not at home, and then there had been this weird feeling of him being stared at.

"Hmm." The admirer of purple had buttoned his mouth. The deep ponders did not find his palate in order to form a monologue. The Emperor had a habit to talk to himself aloud, had always had. Usually it was just gloating or self-praising... but there were somber moments for graver things. Like the occasional torturing hours in the empty throne room on Planet Z, when the illusions of Adi suddenly had popped up from his pent-up awareness. The whiles of the forbidden memories...

The younger counterpart was nowhere to be found. He was not even at work. The local space ranger recruiting office told he was still on holiday. Hours later, the old man sat in a park bench, moping. Fat tame doves began padding towards him, begging for breadcrumbs. One of them flew to sit on the top of his head.

"_CANNOT YOU SEE I AM THINKING OVER HERE_, you feather-brained twits!" he got a manic huff. "Go away! I have always hated doves! They are too white! Too innocent-looking! I hate white! If you were purple, I might like you. But you are white! WHITE! From all the colors in this pathetic universe you have to be WHITE! Like Star Command! I hate those colors, green and white! They haunt me in my nightmares! Doves and that..." Abruptly, he perked. Star Command. How had he not come to think of it earlier? They should be able to help him there. At least now as even Buzz seemed to have disappeared. Yet, he did not trust these local Kaonian rangers, they were not even close to the elite that worked in the Base. Well, or course for the Grand Emperor Zurg, every space ranger or relevant was a lousy pitiable boob, but sometimes even their aid could come in handy.

As not being able to contact Commander Nebula via his wrist communicator, he shot off to Star Command with his spacecraft.   

But... the welcome was not all that assured there. Even when Zoxedaszeĉ had at least a gazillion times explained his anxieties all over again to Zeb. The grumpy Commander had his hands full of paperwork, files about some conflicts reported from Tangea. That planet had lately transformed into a time-bomb. Some new laws oppressed the race of Grounders, whereas they appeared having larger-scale guerilla movement against the Royals. There was no help from Mira's side either to solve this news. Although being the heir of throne to Tangea, she almost neglected the whole planet's existence nowadays. As if willing to mutiny herself too.

"Look, son, maybe Buzz is just taking a little time for himself. I'm sure there's nothing wrong", Nebula answered the thousandth time. Forty percent of Zurg's jabber went usually past his ears.

"No he is not! Who would be better company than _the mighty me_ anyways? HUH? HUH! My son was supposed to come and stay at MY glorious palace, then he just hangs up on me! Hangs up on me, his father! His own father!"

"Well let's say this sounds a bit weird but what if we'll wait a while still? Sweet mother of Venus, I'm quite certain the kid'll call ya sooner or later back."   

But now the line was crossed. Zora grated his teeth and boosted his voice to a griffin's roar. "This is the last drop! Even you are only a pathetic teensy weensy pooch poodle who cowardly mewls with fear and shutters in its puny dog hole not having courage to face the evitable! You incompetent dipstick! Lack-wit! If I say that you shall send someone to see if my son is alright, then you shall do what I command, you worthless little lackey! I..."

Smack! His fist hit the Commander's desk with an unforeseen power. A crack appeared onto the surface, some ill-omened creak was heard, and the whole table smashed in two parts. The month's paperwork was spilled onto the floor. And as if the Desk had had feelings, it began beeping and whimpering heart-brokenly. Zeb was forced against the rear wall. Though, he remained shaking his head and rolling eyes. Father Lightyear was just plain crazy, so hard to be taken seriously. But it would become expensive for Star Command if Nebula would not stop that raving. It was true that Buzz' situation -whatever it was then- sounded rather peculiar. However, with his prejudices concerning that ludicrous Emperor, the Commander could not see reason in Zora's every bellow.

"The balance has shifted! My son is perhaps falling back in the darkness and you sniveling scrawny pigeons cannot even..."

"Blast! Alright, alright, now shut your trap, you're in my office!" the moustache man brawled back, "Remember, ex- bucket head, that you're not any emperor any longer. You're a dangerous criminal who's on parole. You just cannot _command me_ to do things for you. I got this whole universe protection thing here to run almost twenty-four seven! But alright. If it's giving you any peace, I'll call Team Nova and ask them to check out if there's some trouble."

"Do not tell me that you are not at all concerned about my son and the looming rise of the dark forces?" the former royal was offended.

"Of course I am! Craters! That's why I run this space ranger thingy and promised to send Team Nova to take a peek on the case! Their patrol at Trade World will be over about in an hour, so then go, meet them and explain the case. See, NOW I'm even giving _YOU_ the authority to send Captain Nova to a mission! Guess it's better that way huh? Now go! I need to get the Desk to the medbay for treatment, it's all collapsed!"

Muttering something about piping lap-dogs, Zurg stormed out of the room to go to wait for his new temporary minions.

Amazingly the former Team Lightyear took the ol' nutcase far much more seriously. Also they had been lately wondering what kept Buzz' wristcom silent. A variety of reactions followed. XR had his doubts when the pathos about the dark side's abysmal ascending began, and Booster caught a mere panic attack, beginning to chew his nails as if listening to a creepy ghost story. When Yoka's possible absence was mentioned, the ring fell musing.

"What if some giant hairy beast has risen from the forest and eaten them both?" Booster flapped, "I mean the forest looked pretty creepy to me! And the house's so near it!"

"Booster, what have I said about reading fairy tales before going to sleep?" XR scolded him, "They're too thrilling for a sensitive personality like you. I'd recommend you to read Harmony Bunny or such innocent books, which on the other hand are nothing but pink-sugary-fluffiness and not good for a growing-up man like you. I cry off. Read rather stories about giant hairy beasts. Maybe they'll help you overcome your fear for giant hairy beasts."

"Hmh. I doubt there'll be such things in this case..." Mira considered, "Well... uhm... of course there _can be_ a giant hairy beast in the forest, but I'm certain it has nothing to do with this case... hmm... well, I'm not one-hundred percent certain, but _almost_..."

"Will you tell me what you find out? I ought to go", Zora muttered, "If I am with you, the odds of getting nose-to-nose with my son shall fall pathetically minuscule. He avoids me, due to a reason or another."

"We'll do our best, Mr. Lightyear." Nova saluted.

A few hours later a waned face appeared in the chink of Buzz' front door. The host was surprisingly at home, blankly leering at his former team. Why were they here?     

**...to be continued...**


	11. Mira's discovery

A few sweat drops trickled down Buzz' temporal. Were Mira, XR, and Booster here because of _him_? Had his father sent these snoop troopers here hugger-mugger? Lightyear had nervously asked them to come in, but had not expected _this_. No-one was supposed to know! For the cost of _her_, and everything...

For the first time in ages, the invisible enemy had appeared. Something had awaited Buzz inside this very house as he had returned home from his little study trip. He had spent a good bundle of hours in an SC study laboratory a few miles away from Kaon. The hut had been empty, he had had his full peace to analyze the parchment pieces there with molecule scanners and try to find possible information about their origins. With roughly no results. Disappointed, he had driven back home. The door had whooshed close behind his back... rendering the nowadays insipid house to a stage of psychological horrors. The plain nothingness had began mocking, accusing him with his own voice. That derisive hollow laughter had circulated him from every side, sucking its sick amusement from his dolor. The worst, it had told nothing about where Yoka was or how to get her back. Instead, the screech had blamed him for tale-bearing and kept on shooting him with threats.

"_We told dad, did we? We slipped something to dad, did we? Well let's see how your dear chick takes the consequences... I warned you. And remember, you pathetic loser, that nothing will miss my eye. I am watching you..._" So the sneer had drawled, then flown away. Buzz was left alone in the shady living-room, his shirt back wet with cold sweat. He could not understand the allegation as having no idea about Zurg's visit. But half an hour later, his former team had tumbled in, asking direct questions about his state. But how had the voice known that he was to be in the crossfire of snappy questions? It was all too confusing, why did nothing have any logic? Why was someone throwing bricks against Buzz' forehead this way?

Lightyear could do nothing but lie. It hurt tremendously his conscience; lies were for the pawns of darkness. But _she_ would suffer, everyone would suffer if he did not hold his tongue.

"Your father is really worried about you, Buzz", Mira began concerned, "has something serious happened here?"

"Uhh... nothing, really. It's just... heh, it's nothing." He forced a hasty smile on his face. The Morphean had retreated to stand in front of the bureau, where the parchment pieces had been thrown in.

"But Buzz, you can tell us. We're your friends!" Booster noted sadly.

"We heard... you weren't at home when Zora was here in the morning. He was looking for you."

"Uhh... h-he w-was?" the son stuttered. Well, then it was not the ghost who had demolished the front door. Concerning Zurg's temper, he had apparently handled it like it had been a kettledrum. "Uhh I was d-doing some work business..."

"But he said you weren't at work."

"...o-outside the town."

"Oh." A crawling, wickedly silent pause followed.

"So, umm... where's your wife?" Nova ceased the stillness.

"Ahh umheheh yeah. She's on a walk", he fibbed with twitching jugulars. Would they swallow that?

"But your father said there was no-one at home."

"Ehh ssss-she likes long walks. Really long. I mean she's a hunter and everything, likes to see places and ehh..."

"Buzz, you _can_ tell us what has happened. We're here to help you. Is... someone extorting you for something? You had said to your father that Yoka was gone the night before you should have come to Capital Planet. He believes she hasn't come back since." Nova's gaze was steady.

His heart bounded up to his scull. Were his explanations that soggy that the rangers pierced them that easily? Or was it Zurg that had baked all this up? He had his strange sides; the scion could not perceive how he always knew when Buzz had taken a false step back to the dark side. Or relevant. He had to get those sniffers out of here and fast, before his too-quick tongue might lisp out something revealing. Hence he poured out more lies.

"Ahh now look everything is fine over here. She's not gone, she's just... on a walk. Who'd  be extorting me? That's ridiculous! I'm just fine and everything..." Buzz endeavored in vain looking casual. Far, far much else versified his outer appearance. The male was leaning against the dresser and squeezing the cover's edge hard with both hands, phenomenally not shattering it.

"Group huddle", Nova gave a whisper to Booster and XR who were sitting nearby. They enclosed a circle and lowered their tones so that the host could not reach a pip.

"We're really getting nowhere with this. Buzz is as talkative as a bashed newt."

"But... are you sure there really is a problem? I mean... Buzz won't say anything", Munchapper hesitated.

"Can't you see he's not telling the truth at all? There's something, beyond, things he doesn't want to admit. I think Zurg was more than right", Nova prompted back.

"But who's to trust him? The bucket has been replaced with a wrinkly face but has it still _really_ changed? Do the shades of purple vary that easily? Are you sure, Mira, that you're not brainwashed to trust the dark side? What if that shadowy menace shot you with some kind of hypno-jinx and you've transformed to his mindless puppet-slave and you don't even notice it?" XR had his doubts.

"Stop that! I'm not brainwashed! Or... at least _I think_ I'm not. I don't know why but I _trust_ Zurg, nowadays. I trust him perhaps even more than Buzz, who has become so flighty. Don't you guys remember how he helped Buzz with that tha-grydda thing? He helped us to fight the slime blobs that came from the remote galaxy. And he seems sometimes knowing things beyond our understanding although he's a bit... potty. You know... cuckoo." Mira rolled a finger over her ear to make the looney sign.

"Well, although you'd be a new minion of izzards, it still won't much determine what we're doing here. That jolly ol' fellow who's perspiring in the corner won't carol."

Nova put a finger on her chin and crumpled. Mighty fishy the atmosphere appeared to be... Buzz hid lorryloads of things from her and the team. Lied. She sensed it, and sensed it too well. Something had happened to Yoka, and the Captain was afraid to dead to talk about it. So it had to be. Then, was something threatening him? Most possibly.

_"...she wasn't here and then someone had left me this odd messag..." _she repeated in her mind the rigmarole that was supposed to be Buzz' last 'reasonable' syllables the night he hung up on Zoxedaszeĉ. Message...? Messages were not left in vain...

An abrupt idea lamp was switched on above her head. What if she would leave the boys alone for a second and just look around a bit? There had to be some tip-offs left on the crime scene...

"Ok troops, I got a little plan. Let's try it out", she pointed a thumb upwards. Booster and XR looked baffled. What plan? There had not been any talk about a 'plan'.

"Uhh whatever. I still think the Big Zee deflated your brains a bit", the mecha muttered and received a cutthroat frown from his captain. "Ok, ok, I said just a _bit_. One atom. Or an electron, which makes it even less."

"Buzz, could I look around a bit? The guys can keep you company. Looks like you haven't talked to anyone for a while", she asked.

Lightyear dilly-dallied. What was that Tangean up to? She wanted to ferret out the facts? On the other hand... if he would retort a deny, she would start suspecting even more. Besides, there was no real testimony lying around. If there were, the galactic hero would have immediately found a track and knocked down the diabolic fiend. Nonetheless, what if she would ghost inside the bureau where the _only_ _evidence_ was? But, he still decided to yield.

"Don't worry I won't be breaking anything", she raised a brow as mincing towards the kitchen.

It unquestionably seemed that the house had lacked a woman's hand a while. The pile of unwashed plates on the kitchen table was gathering flies. There was an old sock reeking on top of the fridge. Vainamoinen's daughter was such an over-hygienic; how could a single room appear this way if she had been blustering around? Back at Kaleva, she had made her husband furious with constant venting and laundry... and also knowing Buzz, he had the custom to soil fast shiny-clean places either with explosion debris or then with banana peels and hamburger wrappers.

"Hmh", she typed some notes on the wristcom pad. The discussion in the background had transformed lighter. The Jo-Adian was explaining Buzz something about the forthcoming Football Galaxy Cup. Mira popped upstairs, soared around, found nothing. Back downstairs. The males were quarreling about who was the best goalkeeper in the Gamma Quadrant Hover Hockey leagues. Meanwhile, she tripped along the living-room towards the backdoor.

"Men, always the chat turns to sport at some place. Thought they could've talked about Buzz' problem but no. Well I got better stuff to do than squabble about some Quidditch. I have _detective work_!" Mira clumped out of the French horn that leaded to the back yard, nodding to herself. "Definitely, definitely. Craters, Buzz won't fool me. I'll find out what's going on here!" In the yard, she strolled round and round the same plum tree sapling a while -in her steadfast ponders- as if riding an imaginary merry-go-round. "Hmm... hurdles, mysteries, schemes... but I'm not a rookie any more and should be able to solve felonies even on my own. Yes, I should get on with this." With a smirk, the plant-circulating was stopped. Hands on hips, she took a good survey of the yard. "Hmm... great detectives always find clues in places no-one would expect..." she closed her left eye, looking extremely important now. "This yard could bring out many possibilities..."

The men were furthermore inside the house, tiffing heatedly. Through the round window, Mira could see Buzz flinging his arms. But she was left in her private tranquility. Not a single shoebill, salamander, or space ranger seemed interested in what she was up to. Well, then again maybe one pair or external angry eyes, invisible for the mortals...

Thus the Princess was free to scowl at the lowest grass roots, dig odd-looking mud piles (that were obviously left from the local moles), and put a nano-electrical multi-analyzer to snuff around some more. This high-tech widget that was a basic gear for any ranger nowadays, could sense faint smells like a dog, find occurrences of foreign DNA if needed, inspect fingerprints, and so on. It examined the findings, and brought usually rather comprehensive scientific explications up. A very useful tiny thingamajig for a beginner Sherlock Holmes.

So far, there had been much nothing to be analyzed. Only footprints of Buzz and Yoka, added to a miscellaneous amount of rabbit trails and pigeon poo. She was to snort to the futility of the whole operation and quit, until she saw something flapping on her right side. She initially crouched in the high grass, the hedgerow being upon her. A small piece of silky gray canvas appeared on her palm, as Nova loosened the fluttering object from the spiky branches. There should have been nothing very amazing in a sheet of fabric... until she turned it over. A gasp. It had... _disappeared_. Or had it? She still _felt_ its light weight in her hand, as well as the flimsy touch of the fine textile. Bemused eyes wide as weather balloons, she repeated the last action. There it was again... as gray as it ever had been.

"Whoo... it's... _invisible _from the other side!" she gasped, as if this had been the most remarkable discovery of the millennium. But... what was it, why was it here? From where could this thing have origined from? Who had ever heard about a canvas like this? Perhaps the LGM's were able to design something alike, but... in that case, _she _would know about it, being now a captain and all. Tilting her head, she let the scanner gadget nose the rag. Though... the results were not that fancy. The little holoscreen of the analyzer showed no DNA traces, no olfactory molecules, not even a Midi-Chlorians. The only things that blazed on the holo were its age, some material matrix, and the time of tracking.

She inhaled again. "W-w-waitwaitwait... now you're going to tell me that this cloth's _two-hundred seventy-one years, three months, and twenty-one days old_?" she questioned befogged the doohickey. "This doesn't make any sense! No one's using _that_ old clothes. The least is Buzz. So this can't be left from him. Hmm... in the light of evidence, it would seem that some at least three-hundred-year-old walking mummy has been in Buzz's garden... Ahh, Natron!" Then she banged her head with a fist. "No, no, no. He was sealed away. And besides not likely for him to trot around here... Something else's behind this..."

The Princess did not hear the small hiss coming from behind the house's corner. Closely it sounded as if someone had fiercely exhaled from between clenched teeth. 

The Shadow bathed in fumes.

"Mira Nova... You nasty little twit. So you've taken the lead to rout around? That will not direct you far... it'll be your end. Always wanted to get rid of you anyways. You'll make a neat addition to my list... Hmh. Luckily I had sense not to go back to my fortress but to stay and watch. The little pathetic Buzz is being obedient and not squeaking out things, but this chick's doings start looking dangerous. I _must_ get that shred back she found! And it will be ensured that she will not coo her gobbledygook onwards. Only if I could find a chance to strike..."

------------------

As there was no evidence enough almost in terms of anything, Team Nova grumbling retreated from Lightyear's kingdom. Moreover, due to her not being taken fully seriously since counting on the grunts of a zany ex-emperor, Mira was scaling whether or not to tell about her findings to the bot and the fatboy. It did not take all that many minutes, nevertheless, and there was another idea-bee buzzing around her.

"Now it's on to hoo-oo-meey! Yay!" the mecha stretched his arms. "I love these new Star Command policies! Even robots get free nights unless they're on a nightshift. Which is then another case, since you get a free day after that! Whee! Now let's get 42 loaded and leave this rock behind!" 

"Uummh..." Nova vacillated a nanosecond but steeled her determination. "I think I stay awhile still."

The men stood blankly. Then Booster wondered,

"You... don't want to come with us?"

"Well... you guys can go if you want. I just... umm... walk around a bit..." she murmured, trying to take a relaxed attitude. It was a Friday afternoon, the weekend's sleepdays were ahead. Their drudgery for today was practically over, so they were liberated to go home and stare at intergalactic holo-telly soap operas zombishly the next forty-eight hours if willing. Or anything. However, Mira had no plans to graduate into a vassal of brain-draining TV-shows. And that further purpose to linger on this planet she did not want to reveal to her comrades. Buzz' case intrigued her more than she could understand. That odd discovery, his evident lying... Odd, but true, how Nova beheld the situation similarly to Zurg. Perhaps she was not all that much _worrying_ about Lightyear, but seeing the whole puzzle of little clues forming a tapestry of adventure. This could be perhaps her own, ever-first greater _private mission_. Working as a member of a stick-tight-together team, there was no space for ad-libbing or lone-wolf attitudes. On the other hand... it was true that everyone of Team Lightyear had always performed own roles, but still... this one time, why not this one time? She knew that no 'private investigations' should be done, everything should be handled as a team. But what if just _this one time_... what bad would one time do? Buzz had _always_ broken rules. Although, if someone had written half of the regulations, was he allowed to break them more than by-standers? There was no answer to that.

"I'll catch a late interplanetary cruiser or stay the night here. I haven't just much visited Morph, kinda boring to go back home and..." Mira casually spread her arms, but almost shooing the guys away with her ambiguous gestures.

"But that sounds so cool! Can I stay too, Mira? I'd like to get to know the town a bit too!" Booster got a sudden enthusiasm-attack. Perhaps there would be some local delicacies he could order in some restaurant. Food was of course foregoing boring ol' buildings which the usual sightseers so keenly holo-photographed.

"If you're gonna stay and grow your waist measures, what's keeping me from leaving Her Worshipfulness alone?" XR joined in.

Nova's face fell. Now that was foiling her whole brilliant plan! She would be not dragging those two comic relieves around _this time_. Where was the getaway? Abruptly, she recalled something.

"But boys... are you sure?" she faked a sad expression with mournful tone, "I thought you wanted to stay home and watch the Gamma Quadrant semifinals of the Miss Cosmos contest. Too bad, I remembered that Booster's favorite super model Vikki Vortex is on to aim at the victory... But too bad, if you wanna stay on this boring planet and miss it all..."

The both males went through several jawdrops, sweatdrops, and moans.

"Hot rockets! The semifinal is today?" Booster held his temples and balanced from one foot to another, "S-sorry, Mira, but can I...?" Meanwhile XR was nearly fainting in the background due to the sheer terror of not seeing Vikki Vortex live.

"Sure, sure, you can go, she is your _very, very favorite_ after all, eh?" the Princess teased. This was enough. Before being able to finish her sentence, the Jo-Adian and the robot were already rushing towards Forty-Two, a giant dust cloud on their heels.

"That was rather easy. No plan B's needed this time." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, starting to figure out what to do next.

The Kalevan woman was gone, that was obvious. One of the most ancient tricks was the door-to-door querying. There were a few houses clustered around with miscellaneous weirdoes living in them. Perhaps someone had occurred to see a dark-skinned tall girl roaming around...

The following knock-knocks needed patience. Some huts were empty, whereas the most door openers were rather answerless. There were grannies with malfunctioning hearing aids, fat kids picking their noses, and at least one bloodthirsty werewolf-looking dog guarding a yard. Nova voluntarily left the latter house unchecked; she was not on the mood of becoming a manic hound's teether.

Then, one faint hit. A random house at the roots of the Xi Muon forest gave some replies. However, their nature was somewhat fuzzy. Or at least being told from the old widow's point of view who lodged there. The grayhead plump lady inspected over and over again the holo-pic of Yoka. Her narration style was irritatingly drawling and spluttering, but gradually dripped something out. "Thishh girl... ssshe is... is she not... thhat... mmm, thhat..."

"Yoka-hanen Lightyear, lives a few blocks..." Mira helped, but got interrupted.

"Mmmm... yesssh... thhat phretty girl I remember now... mmmssshhhh..." the grandma looked at the sky and clonked her dentures as if that measure would have helped with the thinking process. "Hhmmmss... yesshh... shhee was walking so sadly... poor girl cried, I ashked her to chome in and... ssvvvfff... have chhoffhhee, but I don't think thhe poor ghirl undershthood me..."

After tens of minutes of lisping, Mira finally found out that the aged woman had seen the Indian two times recently, about a week ago. Although she seemed rather doating and slow, her memory worked clearlier than expected. The first time of sight, relating to the crying, had been the desperate hours when the shiftless girl had been kicked out of her house by the fear of unknown. The day when her feet had roved around the cheerless streets, the day when Buzz had picked her up from the land of tears into his safe, warm hold. The second time had been a day after that. The both cases put the Tangean to scratch her hair, but especially the latter. After five minutes of important explanation how the widow had fed her pet cat that early afternoon, she rasped that the same lass had walked past her house with some man. The snail-slow description of the male was a perfect copy of Buzz. Yoka had looked slightly nervous, and they both had speeded towards the forest like a typhoon.

"This doesn't really make sense... but she's telling the truth, no doubt of that", the blueblood bethought in her mind. Thanking the widow for her cooperation, she left the yard. In her thoughts, her legs brought her to the direction of the woods. The sun was setting, more and more clouds were summoned to cover the sky. The air obviously would turn drizzly in half an hour or so.

Mira glanced around at the slowly shading suburb panorama. It was getting too late to continue the poll. Friday night... the normal weekend's nightlife would start its jubilee around the city center, whereas these quarters would doze off. Wearing her standard captain uniform, Nova was not quite dressed up to go and sit the night in any local bar. Besides... this eve had not been set aside for a ball, but for solving this mystery. It grew more and more intriguing every second, when the bony pinions in her head ticked and grinded down the charades. The odd canvas piece deserved far much more studying than just a quick analysis... and how to fit that grandma's tale in?

"Come to think of it... didn't she say..." she picked up her notes to check out one detail, "Right. This happened the same day Buzz' father had been '_rudely and absolutely pathetically with creeping dark lies_' interrupted in the phone. Then... Buzz had obviously been at work quite late. How does it make sense that this madam saw _him_ and Yoka on a walk...? Hmmhuuh..."

What the Princess hardly could perceive, was that a vile stare was gunned down at her from the nearby tangle of willows. The Shadow had followed her every gait since the depart from Buzz' house, her every gesture and inquiry. He was literally boiling, imaginary smoke came out of his nostrils. Was that little irritating snooper finding out the truth? Lightyear had told them nil facts; so how in the name of putrid positrons were his pathetic pals figuring out so much on their own? Either they were smarter than he had assumed, or then it was because of that muscle hill he had seen nearly atomizing his foe's door this morning. That faker who was supposed to be killed by Zurg, had gone and cooed to those space ramblers all his assumptions...?

"Blast. Oh well, either way, she's gonna be the next guest of my villa... She will not tittle-tattle onwards. Only if I could hit now... but darn this place is too open!" he grated his teeth so that enamel cracked. Yes, there were eyes everywhere, scrutinizing. He would need to get her inside some secluded shaw of trees. In addition, she would need to go there _voluntarily_ and not be prepared to defend herself. She had her laser, jetpack, everything. What was more, did she not begin to walk to the opposite direction when the malevolent one here so brilliantly balanced the apples and bananas? It was too late to lure her, the distance to the outlying parts and bushes was growing meter by meter. Nova had set her course towards the city, in the hope of finding a cheap place to stay the night.

Now what? She was not definitely going to slip away that easily! With a waft, the Shadow emerged from the osiers and decided to follow her. It was risky to move around in the busiest town center, even with the ghostly means the enemy used. But he took the challenge. Far, far more treacherous was that his half-built intentions were in danger to be exposed...


	12. Shadow's trap

Mira did not have to roam around like a lost ant; the accommodation was spotted quite easily. The Bates Motel was a small, cozy, hostel-type service a tad away from the town's promenade. A three-store building about four hundred years in age was the hostelry, held by a mid-aged man and his senile mother. She reserved a simple room in the first floor, with a dark-brown decoration and furniture made of real, ornate wood. Funny, how such winsome chambers could still exist in this mega-modern cosmos. Well, Kaon was a colorful mixture of history and cyber age; and that blend she was allowed to touch when stepping out into the drizzly twilight. Most of the boutiques had slammed their doors shut for today, but the variety of cafés and restaurants were just receiving their customers. She entered the promenade that replaced the oh-so-protective frivolous moat. Yet a light shower pattered down from the dusky clouds, the lanes looked anything but desolate. Old-fashioned lampposts pulsated opaque, yet sufficient light. They were aided by illuminated fountains and statues here and there. She stopped anteriorly one of those; and just admired. The water sparkled in the lumen of various blue shades, whereas a mighty effigy -depicting some ancient local nobleman in medieval attire- guarded the water from above with a flaming sword. She laid a look at it, soon giving a chuckle. Did not that stern face with thin nose, strait-laced frown, and a swirl on the big chin look even too familiar? Yes... the snobby Lightyears were a huge part of this city's history. If that grim wanna-be-heroic statue had received a jetpack, it possibly would have blasted off to space on its own, hollering 'To infinity and beyond!'

This goggling returned Mira to reality; to recall the unsolved mysteries and to notice that her stomach rumbled like a bulldozer. All this tiptoeing around here would have made even ascetics hungry.

A Salad Bistro with take-away meals at one corner settled the dilemmas. Ah, how a juicy greasy two-inch thick steak would have tasted after such full-day galactic hitchhiking... but no. Yick. A few hours after eating that sort of barbaric dishes, the Princess started feeling that a mammoth lived inside her stomach. So heavy and sleepy and icky it was afterwards, not to mention the occasional pyrosis... thus, perhaps something lighter. She grabbed a few packages of nosh from the bar and headed back to the motel.

The space gear was tossed aside, the jumpsuit acting as a very festive evening dress. Nova groaned, she did not have even a toothbrush with in this foreign town. On the other hand... not the first time. There had been no mirrors or antiperspirant bottles in the vast forests of that Kaleva-whatsoever Indian planet... Team Lightyear had roamed one and half weeks in the thistles looking like apemen. And most possibly she would be at home tomorrow again, which was a shame concerning the interesting town. Capital Planet felt just sometimes so boring...

"Alright, but I got work to do!" she rubbed her hands together and set the dinner onto a table with some study material. The Princess detached a part of her wrist communicator; a palm-held computer that could stand on its own. It could make some further analysis of that odd canvas while the blueblood ruminated the pasta. "A ranger always gets his or her man whether they'd be male or female! I'm sure there starts to be light in the end of the tunnel sooner or later concerning this assumingly highly criminal case... uhm well I hope I can solve it... always a ranger has to be ready to mesh his or her criminals whether they'd be criminals or not!"

The tiny computer's investigation software began beeping while the big latte and the not-so-feather-light chocolate dessert were getting with good speed down Nova's gullet. However the results seemed to be a tad lost in space. Again.

"Well well... you're a tricky fellow..." A deca-set of blue fingers typed something on the small feathertouch pad. The 'comprehensive analysis' showed quite much the same niceties as the on-stage scrutiny. The tatter was one of those cases that obviously enjoyed the shelter of anonymity. No info about its origin. No DNA traces whatsoever. Only that it was old like a mummified tomato and was stitched from some extravaganza fabric.

Pondering, reflecting hard, Mira kept curling a lock of blue hair around her finger until it was in such an overhand knot that she had to ghost the finger through it to get the tangle off. There was something oddly familiar with a canvas that could refract light so that it would be invisible for anyone looking at it...

"Wait, that's it! It must be something similar to the odd globule we used to go through the Gate a while ago..." She came to recall the Xanedian interferator innovation, under whose shield the Fellowship of Eight had been literally unseeable -until the ball had overheated and exploded. However, in any case, there was a crucial resemblance between the functions. Still... this did not answer any heated head-scratching or puzzled pouts. What the stale supernovas did this ancestor-age cloth actually do on Buzz' yard? What did it have to do with anything anyways? What if it was just a random rag the wind had blown there or a stupid peewit had brought in its beak?

"Oh craters... now I'm again at the scratch. Great. I start suspecting too much my own theories and then I get nothing up." She stretched, yawned, and took a better pose in the rather uncomfortable chair. No, there had to be a connection of some kind. Zurg had not shooed his freshly backed marionettes here in vain. There was a serious trouble going on with Buzz.

Out of the blue, she winced to hear a knock on the window. A haphazard glance nonetheless told that there was nothing to be spotted.

"Hmh. Maybe a woodpecker thought it could tap a nest in that interesting transparent wood..." Mira sneered and continued the data search. "Stupid computer. Are the wireless local area connections just slow or is there really no further material relating to this odder than odd rag?"

_Knock. Knockknockknock -- pok._ The window moaned again.

"Now what? Do I need to build a miniature scarecrow there?" she grunted and decided to see what pestered there so enthusiastically. However, nothing was to be seen. The shutters were about to be drawn back shut, but then... Mira's leer espied something. A piece of material looking like kraft paper was attached with a pin to the window frame.

"What the melting meteoroids...?" Her fingers picked it up and unfolded it. It was not craft paper, it was _parchment_. The sheet seemed to be brimful of text, scribbled fast with somehow familiar-looking handwriting. Was this for her? But what, who...?

Again she winced. An evident gush of some clothing reached her ears from the darkness outside. The person who had brought the message still had to be there!

"Wait! Who's there? Who are you?" Unnoticed, in the thoughts of catching this anonymous courier, she ghosted through the wall. It was the first floor, yes, but a rather high foundation raised the house a neat amount of feet above the soil. Thus, she fell.

A series of cracks and splats followed. Mira found herself sitting in soft, colorful mass. In the matte light of one single lantern she could understand that it was someone's greatly treasured flowerbed. Well, _was_. Now more like something that came out of compost.

"Oops..." she glanced nervously around. Obviously no-one had seen the little blunder. She was initially perching on an open backyard of some sort, although it was quite much too dark to determine it clearly. However, the messenger was probably far away gone, she could not catch him or her or it any longer. And as willing to avoid quarrel with some bun-headed ol' spinster complaining about her dear lovely smashed tulips, Mira climbed back through the window into her room. The not-so-pleasant facts lurked forth from the dark nooks: her jumpsuit's back was all the way miry and full of loose flower petals. But luckily there were bathrobes in the bathroom; so it was no trouble to dry-clean the wanna-be dungarees. Coincidentally, this cubicle had one of those flash-quick apparatuses.

"Alright, Mira... now stop goofing around", she sighed at herself, sitting back down to see if there were any new auto-search results in the palm-computer's screen. "You're gonna get a 'danger zone' sticker onto your forehead if you won't watch your steps. Hmh... on the other hand... Buzz blew up the Alliance Plaza when he was younger. And  Zurg... calculators would go bonkers if they tried counting his every bungle. I guess I'm still a minor factor compared to the Lightyears... but still. I need to be a good example and role model for the cadets, so gotta be a tad more careful."

Nova unwrapped the parchment piece she had momentarily forgotten. But before even able to read it, she remained just staring at the scribbling stupefied.

"This... but... this is _Buzz' handwriting_!"  

What on Mars was going on? Why would Buzz write her a note, and even in a situation like this? It could not be from him. That was the sole logical justification. And what came to the contents of the script, it was even more head-spinning.

"_'Interested in to know more about the artifact you are studying? I can help you get more information about it. I am waiting for you in the daybreak, in the place the enclosed map shows. Come alone. Keep this letter as a secret from the others, otherwise I am possibly not able to help you find answers'_", she read aloud with round eyes. There was indeed some hand-drawn chart included. And it pointed at some odd location deep in the Xi Muon forest.

The puzzle Mira had solved this far, seemed to shatter into even smaller pieces. From who was this uncanny, almost ominous message? Someone had spied her, how else would anyone have known about the cloth? Not even the rest of Team Nova was aware of it, not to mention the outsiders. But something this quandary cooped up. The rag _had_ a meaning after all...

Nonetheless... most likely this was a trap of some sort. Although Mira did not possess such things as 'ranger instinct' or 'Zurg alarm' -as her former commanding officer had called his intuitive skills- this case stank like a rotten herring. A nasty sour taste remained in her mouth when deliberating what to do. On the other hand, it was not 100% assured that it would be a deadfall. Sometimes anonymous information sources helped Star Command in tricky cases. There had been all kinds of double agents in the police forces as long as those had existed in this universe. However, this case was slightly different. There was no real evidence of crime yet at all, and still _someone_ snooped in the background. With what kind of motives? Was this Mr. or Mrs. or Ms. or Thing just crocheting schemes or really willing to lend a helping paw? And why to contact just _her_? Also XR and Booster had been questioning Buzz today. But obviously it was she who had found accidentally out something pivotal.

Musing, she analyzed the parchment. For her consternation, the software gave similar kind of results as concerning the shred. Several hundreds years of age... no fingerprints, nothing left that could help identifying the sender.

"What kind of showoff anyways wants to use _parchment_? I didn't even know such stuff was manufactured even so recently as three centuries ago. I mean, talk about three millenniums maybe... Is this courier or its host just willing to look cool and mystifying? Or what's the point?" the Princess rolled her eyes.

Then there was the shady location. With her computer, she sent a query for one Morph-orbiting routing satellite so that it could remote-scan the near grounds of Kaon. The little screen showed the reflection picture of the satellite, presenting an aerial view of the Xi Muon woods. She zoomed in the scan, took a few more snapshots.

"There..."

The place of the doodling truly existed. The air photo framed some kind of rock circle among the overgrown vegetation. It was not even quite near the city, but several miles away. Curiously enough, the local net databases had nothing to say about that Stonehenge. But it could not be just sculpted by the erosion; there were pillars and other man-made things visible, though they were blurry in the image.

"This still stenches... like a pile of week-old perches... why so far away? In such a remote place? I can get there fast with my jetpacks, but afoot it would take a while. At dawn..." According to the timer, the sun rose around six am. So, if she really wished to meet this friend-foe, she should get to sleep and fast.

Despite the danger, there was a sort of tickling thrill in the air. Like when she had hoped that this would become her first, _own mission_, independent of anything else. It did not feel quite alluring to call now Booster and XR or Zurg and chirp it all out. What if this really could bring her on the right tracks and... lead to some bigger well of secrets? Introduce her an enigma broader than she had ever even imagined? It just felt so tempting to accept this request.

"Still it's stupid and reckless. I shouldn't go... I should contact my team... still... didn't Buzz always want to play solo? When we for the first time infiltrated Planet Z, he asked us rookies to go away. He took the Lumini Summit task and dispelled us to guard that matter transport device. He always preached about role models. Role models like him. So... if I'm taking this into my hands, I'm just kind of following the imago he left behind..." she philosophized. "And I've wanted to work alone, really. I would've easily infiltrated Planet Z with Alpha One back in the rookie years unless he had stopped me." Her cerebral CPU still whirred onwards. "This is a risky case, but I'm really not a rookie any longer. I'm armed, I can defend myself if some brickhead tries to trick me. I got authority to arrest whoever attempts breaking the law. And if this really gets me on the doors of some bigger nest of sneaky villains, and I succeed to decipher it _alone_... Heh heh, I don't want to swell up, but a bit of extra respect from your subordinates _never_ hurts..."

Was it now decided? That the Tangean Princess would go and face the hazards just like that? Obviously. 

Finally Mira set herself to lie between the bedsheets, ready to snooze. The Buzz-glitch escorted her bit by bit in the lands of dark-blue nebulas. A few years ago that man had lost his inner balance badly, ever since had acted weirdly. Of course he had had his blaringly-visible whims before, but once he had tasted the dark side, it had left such stigmas in him. Hopingly he was sane now. Nova could not be fully sure of that, though. His acts today, and the verity that the parchment piece _was_ indeed written in his handwriting or at least confusingly similarly. A horrible scenario popped in her mind abruptly. _What if Buzz himself was behind this confusion?_ What if he had turned somehow schizoid when fighting against the dark side in his heart and mind? Mira snorted at her own high-flying illusions. Such a surmise was just blatantly absurd. And she would find out tomorrow...

Perhaps...

The sleep came at last.

---Next day---

A fresh scent of rain was in the wane, dark-green dawn. The air stood almost still in the great forest of Xi Muon. The atmosphere hung like some dreamy fantasia, so silent, so picturesque. Somewhere in the bottle-green bushes something faintly rustled, but otherwise the panorama hovered in slumberland. A climber bloomed in the nearby oak. Its white flowers incensed sweetish aroma. In a single statue of flimsy light, filtering through the tree leaves, was dancing an orb of transparent butterflies. The path of grass and fir needles felt soft under the feet.

It indeed felt like back in that Kaleva planet. Tangean landscapes were covered with jungle; thus woods alike this appeared exotic to Mira. And what did you actually experience when growing up in a sealed palace? Pot plants, perhaps, if not even those. Thus, nature felt always like a new adventure, even after years of space odysseys in the service of Star Command. It was all to thank for her rebellious character that such escapades had been possible. What a dull, torpid life she had created herself if just being daddy's obedient little girl. Maybe she would know generally nothing about the cosmos around, only the walls of the Tangean Royal Palace. An obtuse environment that bred only prejudices...

The worries had somehow faded due to the brilliantly beautiful landscapes. The real purpose of roaming here felt instantaneously like a futile accessory. But still, Nova would not want to be late from the appointment. Just if she had known what to expect there. A secret discussion with some crook? Or someone having perhaps similar worries to Buzz? There was still a long way to trod to the destination, whereas she was not all that keen on using the jetpack. This lush scenery here was just too lovely to miss.

Through all kinds of transitions and brain-knots, Mira's sphere of ideas fell to reminiscent the day when she had for the first time really seen any Tangean wilderness. The solitude brought a similar sort of sensation... her being alone, adventuresome, willing to experience something noveau just on her own. But obviously there would be no Grounders hiding in these shrubberies.

Abruptly her legs froze. Not because of a sudden appalling danger, but just because of a single statuesque image in her mind. Indeed, those Grounders...

She had not in a long time lain a thought aside to remember the one person that had had rather a crucial effect on reducing the biases the royal court had implanted in her. And shown what kinds of wonders Tangea really kept inside itself, outside the narrow world of those blue snobs. On the other hand... how to really take positions concerning this guy called Romac? Wind had whisked him away, he shone only with absence. So the years had just passed, him not appearing back any longer. Who knew if he even existed. She had no idea what had happened to him after her father had denied the contacts, but seemingly his boots had selected the slightly wrong track. Romac was a rebellion equal to her, but the Princess had at least chosen to canalize it for a good purpose; Star Command and the universe protection. He had become some kind of bounty hunter and lastly climbed on Zurg's payroll... Yet the Grounder had on the last second turned his back at the Emperor. That had been the first and final time since the naïve teen years he had popped out of nowhere.

His company might have been nice while walking here... he might have liked these quarters... such a nature-personality.

But most likely that man did not even recall her first name any longer. If he even was somewhere...

"Now why did I start even thinking about him?" Mira slapped her forehead irritated. That rather ugly-looking half-savage had precisely nothing to do with anything over here! "Craters, I'm supposed to go and figure out something about the canvas piece and not weep after some devious scoundrels!" She squared her shoulders and managed to stomp a fraction of time like Buzz; chin pointing importantly upwards and her whole pose aslant.

The old Nex Crucio turret was finally reached. Nova was just in time; her wrist communicator showed that the local sun had crept over the horizon. But no-one was there yet. Or at least not visible.

"Hello? Someone here?" she hollered a bit around, loitering among the half-burned pillars. Odd, how this square felt so creepy. What had happened here? This had been a building, but why had the normal map explanations told nothing? Usually historical ruins were strictly marked and archeologically combed out. She gave a brush on her laser. It was better to be tuned if something unexpected would occur.

This impression, muffled in great physical pain, remained as her last recollection. In the corner of her eye she had for a nanosecond seen a flash of green light. Then, just black.

--------------

"Uhh what the...?" Mira squirmed and lifted a benumbed-feeling hand on her forehead. The vision spun a while, then settled down to depict a blue-glowing wall. Bewildered, she gradually sat up to squat on a hard stone floor. One glance told that this chamber was a perfect cube; perfect in every sense. There was no visible door, no windows, just these weirdly shimmering flat surfaces.

"Oh craters, _was_ it a trap...?" the Tangean gritted her teeth. "Man, how stupid I was! Now even the toads in ditches start cackling at me! 'Captain Nova, the gullible clown'. Craters, leaping leptons, now what...?" Moaning and cursing she stood up, taking support from the wall. Some twerp had prowled in the scrub and just waited for her to step inside the ring? Hard she blamed herself, yet still seeing the metaphorical light in the end of the underpass. Despite this burning wrench in her muscles, she was back conscious and had a vast assortment of abilities to flee almost any danger.

"Ughhh... someone must've shot me with plasma or something... now let's spot a way out of here." She brushed some dust off her Star Command suit and ghosted through the nearest wall.

But what? There was nothing else but an exactly same kind of cubicle. Shrugging, she selected another wall inside the new chamber. But they just kept repeating, those blue-glowing empty rooms. Wherever she ghosted, there seemed to be only a copy of the past.

"Where am I?" she squinted her eyes, lightly suspecting if she was seeing some sort of nauseous nightmare. Some of her friends had occasionally complained about such nocturnal aggravations. Dreams that anyone would have wanted to get rid of.

But Mira was awake. "Hmm... should I change the direction? There must be somewhere an end to these things." Thus the Princess ghosted through the floor, and was dropped into another stereotypical cell. More ghosting. And more. Progressively this would start tiring her out, if this idiotic maze would not decide to cut short its foul play. However, at last there was some 'improvement' concerning the unyielding escape. Mira's fingers found an obstacle that did not allow her to walk through. It had to be some kind of outer wall, obviously Tefloyd 7 -reinforced. She was still optimistic for a second, but then the merriness was strangled.

Laser did not cut that wall.

"The play isn't over yet", she puffed peeved. "I still got the _backup_ as every ranger has!" Thus the wrist communicator was clicked open, and words whistled in, "Coming Star Command, Captain Nova call---" Nonetheless, the sentence was interrupted with mute stupefaction.

The connections did not work. The screen blinked with an error message.

The blueness on her cheeks went white. But, there had to be a way out! From this place... _what place was this anyway_? She had no clue whatsoever. If the satellite transfer blacked out, she had no means to locate herself even with the most antique GPRS.       

Somewhere in the black veins of this subterranean stone behemoth, unbeknownst by Mira, someone silently hummed a rune of desolateness. It joined the shades, grew deep together with them... the near mute notes hovered above the moldy dankness, yet not danced, only stood... the ice-cold teardrops of a crushed prisoner whose hope discolored brutally minute by minute...

_"Parempi minun olisi, parempi olisi ollut; syntymaettae, kasvamatta, suureksi sulkeutumatta; naeille paeville pahoille, ilmoille ilottomille..._

_...olisin kuollut kuusioeisnae, kaonnut kahdeksanoeisnae, ois en paljoa pitaenyt: vaaksan palttinapaloa, pikkaraisen pientaretta, emon itkua vaehaesen, isoni vielaeki vaehemmaen..."_

Yoka's song of pining away had transformed into sheer doldrums. It was futile to wait for tomorrow; here in this underworld, clocks never ticked. There was no savior, Proud Crescent seemed to be darker than the evil itself. Was her life meant to be wasted from the beginning on...? At home, perhaps her father would have helped her when seeing a soulless menace like this. But home... it had perished with the wishes.

As the mind had begun losing faith, so languished also the body. The green light of pain came back every day... with his sick game. So many times she had tried... to find a loophole out of this leviathan's chasm. But where was it? The ghoul would strike again, and again, and again... waiting evidently for her final fall. 

Proud Crescent wanted her to die.

And somewhere, Mira made another ghosting. Only to encounter one more of those uncountable dull cubicles... And someplace else, a man's figure sat in front of a small monitor, cackling hoarsely and rubbing his hands together with evil enjoyment. Oh, what a show...

**...to be continued...**

Reviews are welcome.


	13. Haze

Mira lay panting on the cold stone floor. Her muscles felt paralyzed, weak... a blur was swirling in her eyes again...

The ghosting had drained her strength. Those countless walls had no head, no tail. There had to be several floors of them, doorless, blue-glowing chambers. Now they appeared like horrible foes that were cackling derisively at her confusion. What was this awful nightmare? There was no sense in it, no reason in this maze! Who had brought her here? Or was it all just an illusion?

But right at the moment her feebleness felt even too real, as much as the sand desert in her throat. Her inners burned, they yarned to get a gulp of water; she would have given her fortune for a fresh, sparkling fountain... This dusty, moldy air made her cough and gasp. It felt as though she had wandered here for hours. Yet, the digital timer on her wrist communicator indicated that it was still an early morning.

She wearily took support from her elbows, and rose up an inch or two from the grimy floor. Swelling rage and shaky disturbance reflected from her face. The Princess was both angry with herself and that glib twit who had lured her in this obvious trap. Before she even understood, she was yelling to the plain nothingness with a raucous, furious voice, blaming the walls for her dismay.

_"Where am I? Who is behind this darned snare? Show yourself! Let me out of here! What---"_

But the yelp died on her tongue. As if the sheer stone would have ablazed into life, the wall right in front of her nose began shimmering more violently. The electric blue glow sizzled and rattled, flickering with white straps like a colossal monitor. And before she could utter a baffled 'Huh?', the outline of a giant face had appeared there like projected onto a movie screen. But what -or more accurately said _who_- was sneering back at her, made Mira's eyes widen to the size of small planets. That set of deep-blue eyes, that dark shiny hair falling into them... that thin nose, that bluish-black Van Dyke...

"Did the curious bluebird have an exciting adventure through the rooms?" the head on the screen mocked with a cold, ruthless grin.

"_BUZZ_?" she gasped, thunderstruck.

The portrait burst out into a hoarse laugh, his hands rose up to the level of his face. She stared at it with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. What was going on? She had left Buzz' house less than twenty-four hours ago with his team, their former captain bathing in disoriented lies...

"Buzz? Is that you? Why--- was it _YOU_ who closed me in here?" she yelled, gazing unblinkingly at the ghastly cackling man.

Somewhere in the upper floors, the Shadow sat at a dusting control table. The small monitor in the console showed the crouching Nova bellowing in mistrust. When he finally was able to free himself from the bonds of sick exhilaration, he remained to tap his fingers together and taunt mutely. The woman's lying figure spat more questions.

"Oh this is priceless!" he simpered at himself, brooding in his mind, "Alike that other stupid chick, she thinks I'm that local, sniveling nervous wreck Lightyear! Well well... idiocy grows within idiocy I assume. But let's play along, it'll be far much funnier that way! Let her stay in her assumptions. Perhaps it will eventually be one more hit against Lightyear's big dumb head... hehehehe."

"Why are you doing this?" the supine form in the screen asked again. "You... you can't be Buzz! You have to be some fraud in a holosuit or something! And who uses voice distortion to alter speech!"

The Shadow smirked, continuing to tat his fingertips irritably together. Nova in her chamber sat up. The energy was gradually filling her veins again and seemingly was aided by the sudden blazing resentment.

"I never denied anything, did I?" he asked. "I need no holosuits to decorate myself nor any spices to sweeten my tone, you insufferable fool."

She gawped at him. It could not be... it could not be true! Had it been Buzz after all who had lured her here, just like Mira had feared for a microsecond in a fantasy she had considered so fully absurd? Had he really scribbled that sodden piece of parchment? But why? What was the reason in this? And on the top of the heap, had he done something to Yoka-hanen? And that horrible blunt grimace on his face! It seemed so cold that it could have started an ice age any time in these tunnels. In addition, was not that space ranger supposed to be _sane nowadays_? Departed from the paths of darkness? But why no-one raised a tissue to wipe that ill sadistic smile off his face? A canful of boiling water was showed down her collars; so disturbing was the emotion.

_...had Buzz' supposed healing been just a cunning coulisse en route to something else...?_

_...just a sly, clever play to hatch something else behind the scenery...?_

It could not be true...

"W-what?" she repeated the questions tumbling in her mind aloud, again and again. "You wrote that message? You hit me unconscious and locked me in this cell? You, Buzz Lightyear of Star Command?"

"Why not, _Princess_? I have always hated you and your pathetic little lullaby universe. All in such a peaceful balance, no worry of tomorrow? I think it's time for you blasted worms to cringe in front of something else, hehehehe. Hahahaha."

She picked her ear with a finger, as if it had been full of mush distorting the sense of hearing. "But... but... you _yourself_ said your heart had changed! You swore in front of everyone you had left the dark side! Your father believed you!"

His mien adopted a surprised glow. The Shadow had actually no idea what Mira was shouting, thus he would need to select the answer carefully not to spoil the play he had begun. Why did the Tangean jabber about that chicken noodle Buzz Lightyear and the dark side in the same sentence? It sounded almost like that weepy softie had _done_ something evil at some point. But that was just ridiculous. The Lightyear inheritance in this universe was devolved, worthless. On the other hand... had not that other chick squealed also something relevant? The one that could not even speak understandable English...

Gradually a curious glint was ignited in his eyes. He stroke his moustaches with a finger, looking down at the show with a tad of different outlook. Could there actually be potential still left in this once so precious blood? Like the rather intriguing case of that thought-to-be-dead father...

There was a long silence. Mira and the Shadow stared at one another through the ether between the vidscreens; the royal scowling and the menace humming some sneering note. She was the next one to speak, freeing him from the trap of revealing his true self.

"What have you done to your wife?" she had lowered her voice into a hoar whisper.

The wide cavil spurted back on his face. "You mean that stupid naïve chick, who has the intelligence level of a baboon? Hahaha. Well well, nosy eh? If you're so interested in about that idiot, why don't we try the same nice torture method on you?"

Nova's jaw clicked open. Little by little, her both hands clenched into fists, soon her knuckles whitening in the squeeze. An expression of pure hatred crept on her visage. She did not know Yoka almost at all, nor had completely even liked her on those occasions in Kaleva. But the sheer illusion of someone afflicting his wife with violence was too much; it brought hot, salty teardrops in her eyes. This vile man in front of her sounded even worse than Zurg. And she had been such a fool to actually _trust_ Buzz? Believe that the Indian had been 'kidnapped' or relevant? But... but... had it been so that this double-dealing hypocrite had in the shades started ripping his own life apart and meanwhile acting like an innocent dove in front of the unsuspecting audience? What kind of schizophrenic sicko was he?

"_YOU'RE MAD AND SICK_! How can you... how can you..." she hasped for breath, eyes smoldering like roaring sunquakes, "You... you t-told us you LOVED her! Is this your conception of LOVE? No wonder you have had problems to find even a decent girlfriend, if you turn out to be a violent sadistic beast underneath your cover of a space ranger hero!" It all started coming together now. Why the Captain never really succeeded in female relationships and why he had transformed into such a viper in that desolated planet of runes and sagas...

Only if Mira had understood that she was fed with astute lies... But the Shadow had leaded the game so far that the real identities had been swept under a blanket of fog.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! MUWAHAHAHHAAAAH!" the male laughed holding his stomach. "Ahh this is really priceless! You possibly can't understand how much I enjoy seeing you pathetic little git cringing there tears in your eyes! You know, you're even more amusing than that other chick. Hmm..." he patted once again his fingers together, "Just wondering what kind of amusing torture things I could use on you! We have plenty of variety over here, perhaps it's just the wide selection that makes it difficult to decide! Hahahaha! Oh yes... I think I need to keep you alive for a while so that I can get all the fun! The slower you die, the more you will scream..." his last sick, twisted words turned into a hushed hiss.

Mira's pupils stood petrified, glued to the monitor. Her mouth was again becoming too dry to form an understandable sentence, whereas her heart was pounding manically against her ribs. And right on the moment as she was about to utter a cumbersome counterargument, the wall began to ripple with white lines and blur again. The bearded man's face warped into a hexagonical pattern, then died out with an audible _click_. The wall was once again shimmering only that darkish blue, and showed only an exhibition of dull bricks. She was left in chaotic silence with her fast spreading headache. Something banged inside her scull, a hammer of hopelessness. Nova fell back onto the floor, and remained to stare monotonously at the cubicle's ceiling.

**---Star Command---**

"Now where is Captain Nova loitering? Sweet mother of Venus, she was supposed to be here an hour ago!"

Commander Nebula paced around his office, while XR and Booster stood at the doorway. It was Monday morning; the time had leapt over the weekend. However, something was rather weird under the glow of stars. The punctual Tangean space ranger was late from job although Zeb had scheduled today's mission already last week. The ambassador of Amphibia CXX needed escorting back to her home planet after some boring summit on Capital Planet. She had waited already a good while in a guestroom with her servants, and an umpteen times vidphoned to the Commander whether the convoys were ready. And again, the comlink whined.

"Can't she give it a break?" Nebula snarled, throwing an angry look towards the two rangers. "You have no idea where Mira is?"

The robot and the red reptile shrugged. The moustache man answered the call.

"_Hem, hem_! May I kindly remind you, Mister Commander, that I am a busy woman and I am being waited on my home planet! If you kindly would arrange me the escorters!" a toadlike, flat face had appeared onto the holoscreen, talking with a falsely sweet voice.

"Craters. Look, Madame Flobberworm, the captain of your escort team has not yet arrived. We need her to..."

"Would you kindly call me _Madame Ambassador_ when you are addressing me?" she chirped sugarily back, "And perhaps I ought to write a letter to the prime minister about your disability to arrange decent guardians to me."

"Alright, _Madame Ambassador_." Nebula almost snarled under his breath. This toadface with her flowery, laced dress started really getting on his nerve. "Plan change then, if you _kindly_ request it, _Madame Ambassador_. I will order Team Rocket to the service. They'll be there in five minutes." Almost smoke coming out of his nostrils, he switched off the com channel.

"What? Team Rocket? Why can't we go as a duo? We're both brave knights who can..." XR began complaining, but Zeb cut the mecha short with a grunt.

"No, sorry boys but that ol' frog needs a _complete _teamas her custodians. I have to figure out something else for you. Blasted blackholes, where _is_ that Tangean?" There was no use to dial her comlink number, the connection refused every time. Her home phone joyfully tooted as minutes went on, and not even a Blast-Ended Skrewt answered.

"Have you kids seen her since Friday, by the way?" he frowned.

"Nope. We shooed ourselves to watch Vikki Vortex right when the totally futile 'mission' was over. And we were late! Aah, what a tragedy!" the robot wailed, "We missed a good row of babes because the Gamma Quadrant semifinals had already started before we got home! We had no time to do even popcorn! And all because Buzz was nutso and we had to rot on Morph!"

Nebula scowled. That blabbermouth android just could not find less sarcastic expressions, could he? And what did some beauty contest anyway have to do with the absence of Mira?

"You were on Morph? What happened when you saw her the last time?"

"Well, Sir, Mister Lightyear Senior ordered us on this mission, and when it was over, Captain Nova said she wanted to stay the night in Kaon!" Booster saluted hyperpolitely.

"Now, she did? Sweet mother of Venus, what were you doing there anyway? That loony zeta-worshipper obviously put you to sniff around Buzz' house? Huh?"

"Yeah well that's what Mira did. She was grubbing about all kinds of droppings in the backyard while we were inside having a moment of nonsense", XR informed. "And she found nothing and still wanted to stay and grow moss in that city."

Zeb narrowed his eyes. "Hmh, wanted to stay huh? What if she found something and just wanted to get rid of you two rock sleds? The kid has always had a sore spot for little _private adventures_, you know..."

"What? You mean she sacked us? But she said she found nothing but owl dung---"

The old male lifted a finger to scratch his forehead. "Look, this starts to stink. I'm not really convinced, but that bucket head perhaps had a point when he crushed The Desk in two. I'm starting to have a bad feeling that Mira has maybe got messed up with something..."

His vidphone gave a screeching discord. Madame Flobberworm couched her stupid little '_hem hem_' on the other side, complaining that Team Rocket had not yet arrived. The disgruntled commander seized a moment to snap at Munchapper and his buddy that they should go and get Zurg in their hands.

A few instants later, the Beacon and the Trailer were chatting with the Emperor via comlink. The overly-puffed insect king was throwing a tantrum and grating his dazzlingly white teeth; why had nobody called him after Friday and given any status report about Buzz, and yada yada yada. The surprise grew, since Mira had promised to call Zora and tell the little bits of nothing there was to narrate.

"This is a disgrace! I see the darkness growing, I arrange a mission, and I except that you incompetent sobbing mutts also complete it! Wrahh! And you _dare_ to lie that there is NOTHING WRONG? Grahh! Snorrf! Nitwits! Numbskulls!" Zurg's wrath was the size of a volcano. Such brimstone fumes floated in the ether that neither the Jo-Adian nor the big-mouthed robot dared to argue.

"But Sir Emperor, we..." Booster nervously twisted his hands, "We didn't know that Mira..."  

"You shall take new orders now, you loogin sluggards! You shall go to Morph immediately and find that ghost! It is obvious that Mira Nova has not even come back to Capital Planet, but something has happened to her either on Friday night or somewhat later. I shall try to contact Buzz, although I am afraid I will not be able to talk to him."

"B-but, Mister Lightyear, we have our daily job at Star Command and..." Booster whined on.

"_It is your job to find your captain_!" Although peppered with futile bellowing, Zoxedaszeĉ had a clear and reasonable point in his sentence. Neither one of the rangers had courage to refuse, now as Commander Nebula had even dumped them out of his office. Hence they squeezed into Forty-Two and shot off towards Buzz' home planet.

Nonetheless, the day occurred to be anything but fertile. The earth had slurped Buzz, and Mira was as much present as butterflies in the deepest winter. The ranger duo strolled here and there making questions about Nova, yet they seemed to be combing through the wrong side of the town. Thus by the early evening they had not even peeked towards The Bates Motel nor been much near Lightyear's house. As Commander Nebula heard about their tiny by-order, he was not at all peevish that they were looking for Nova. His only side comment was, that Zurg should wash his mouth with tall-oil soap when Munchapper obediently reported also the stack of snide nicknames they had received during the day.

Yet, the diurnal stopped to complete pointlessness and the remnants of Team Nova flew back home. If Mira would pop up tomorrow, then the worries would be over. Otherwise, a heavy plan B would have to be developed.   

The following night on Capital Planet, in one of the most well known jet set districts, seemed to be the calmest and most idyllic. A gentle curtain of snow was falling onto the streets, like a cloud of silvery feathers. Only a few speeders soared outside in the near silence; otherwise everything appeared to be in a heavy slumber. The spring was somewhat late, and it was predictable that the frost would embrace the surroundings for a while still. 

Whereas Kaon had the deepest summer and those sweet scents of full-blooming flowers in the air, the tides were a tad different here in the Galactic Core.

The Darkmatter Manor stood lifeless on one larger site. The doors were locked, drapes drawn tight shut to cover the windows. A gentle wrap of untouched snow lay on the yard, showing the continuing absence of the little family of mixed races. And, some distances away, stood another bombastic colossus, The Z Tower II, which looked merely like a bonsai-version of the old sinister palace on Planet Z. But it was as placid as the neighborhood. No vile hornets were buzzing around the horns of the roof, and no horrible torturing devices awaited the postman if the envelopes happened not to be violet. In the first basement floor, a pack of servant grubs were puffing in their dormitory, in miniature four-posters that were lined along the walls. A few of those bugs stood in nightguard across the labyrinthine house, but also they were rather much looking like sleepwalkers than perky alert guardians.

In the topmost floor was the bedroom of the master and mistress. It came not as a shocking surprise that the vaulted chamber seemed to be sprayed all over with purple shades and izzards. The faint glow of the nightlamp, the tapestries on the walls, the mossy sinking carpet, even the flannel pajamas of the couple carried these famous signs of the newly risen mini-empire. Zora and Mariañ were vast asleep, but something seemed to be disturbing the old man's dreams. He tossed and turned on his side of the bed, unbeknownst by his wife, who slumbered like there was no error or mishap in the world. This far, the male had wriggled so much that the soft blanket was at least three times around his body, its clutch nearing an overhand knot. The pillow had been dropped onto the floor, and the shirt part of his pajamas had experienced a peculiar transformation under the nightmare's torture. Obviously it had not stood the combination of squirming and muscular tension, since it was torn into two from the backside. Also the front was suffering; several buttons had fallen off and were in a disoriented scatter on the sheet and the floor.

"No... no... it shall not happen, no..." Zurg's lips were forming sentences. His inhales were deep, rapid. Apparent sweat drops glimmered on his forehead, his night-trimmed hairdo had turned into a bush of dark out-sticking twigs. In his vision, in the dusky dream he lived, menacing shadows danced and cackled hollowly. 

_Something was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone... there were objects around shimmering in strange, vibrant colors... everything  stirred in a blurry mixture of shapes and colors, and an almost high-pitched soulless cackle was all the time present, haunting... it seemed to infiltrate every nook, the inners of every dust particle... a pair of cold, blue eyes flashed in a green twilight..._

"NO! NO!" a hollow gargle emerged from Zurg's throat. He was ripping the air with his clawlike hands, as if his unnaturally long thin fingers had tried to tear the mere atoms apart. His wife startled awake beside the wrenching male, staring soon shocked at the Emperor.

_...A man was sitting on the floor, his outline gleaming in the dark... he raised his head, slowly... suddenly the image of the cold, soulless eyes were back, a flash, then there were two figures... the other one still sitting on the cold stone floor, another one hooded, hovering out of the shadows..._

A loud groan of denials shot out of Zora's gorge. It was as if there was no way out of the weird dream, he felt he was stuck somewhere, a great pain searing across his forehead.

"Mollygoggle? Popkin? What's the matter?" the girl piped nervously, extending a hand to shake awake her mate. But right at the moment, Zora experienced a sort of snatched spasm, his whole huge body becoming rigid and the words coming shrieking out of his mouth.

"Alone, he has been, chained... abandoned... BUT THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT'S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS! A servant will join him... the Dark Lord shall rise... SHALL RISE..."

"Ziggery-Pooh? You're having a bad dream..." Mariañ mewled mousily. "Wake up, Googly Bear!"

She did not have to wait for long for his awakening, though. As the ordeal's rage went on, the male rolled over the bed's edge, and with a great _thud_, landed onto the floor. But this was not enough. The falling half-giant drew the rickety nighttable down with his weight. Shattering glass chinked with a splash of water. A loud moan rose up from the floor level. The girl raced to perch onto the bed's edge and peered down.

"Honeycomb? Purplebee? Are you all right?"

"Urrhhhggg..." he grimaced. Zurg was lying half-sitting on the carpet, a large transparent vase over his head. The remains of his pajama shirt were wet and an amount of cut flowers was sliding down his front. The nightstand was lopsided behind him, together with the remnants of a drinking glass and a mini-portrait collection of Zora's grinning mugs. As finally understanding where the Emperor was, he removed the vase and set a palm instead over his eyes. His forehead was furthermore throbbing, like in a nasty migraine attack.

"Ohh my glorious selected purple orchids, blooming so majestically in their imperial splendor, ohh the poor frail fairies of grandiloquent jungles..." he blabbered looking at the mess, still a bit off his rocket after the hallucination.

"Ziddums, are you sure you are alright? You had a really bad dream and you fell..."

He sat up, blinking. It was all suddenly in front of him as if he had seen a photograph display. Momentarily the nightmare had been forgotten, but her worried squeak had brought it back.

"You... you were shouting horribly something about... a _dark lord_ and that someone was coming back..."

He still goggled at the wall ahead. A lingering memento of those cold blue eyes was floating in front...

"Y-you had baddy dreams last night too, but I didn't want to wake you up then because you calmed down... you were muttering something about Buzz..."

"Buzz..." his lips produced the name. The sapphire eyes, the icy gleam... there had been also _another_ kind of picture. The same deep blueness swelling with teary rage, fear, hatred towards something...

_...he had his mother's eyes..._

"Honey?" the feminine voice continued the questioning in the background.

The old man slowly scampered up to his feet, holding lightly his aching head. A stern frown soon steeled his face. The strange feeling did not vanish, it was as if the dream had continued inside him even though he was awake.

_Something was wrong with Buzz... something dark and horrible was gathering strength... There had been this alarm for a while screaming inside him that something was wrong. Already before his son had begun acting so oddly. And now it was all shrilly shrieking about Buzz..._

_Something was happening on Morph...    _

Zurg tried to filter his blurry thoughts through the pounding headache.

_What the jumping nanotubes was this atrocious feeling...?_

"Zora? Zoxed---?"

He swirled around on his heels to face his wife so fast that she winced. An austere gleam reflected from his eyes. The syllables came out solemnly and ominously.

"The dark side is rising... and my son _has something to do with it_. There is something evil in the horizon, far much more evil than _I_ ever have been..." 

...to be continued...


	14. Face to face with chaos

"Uhh..." a moan was heard. Dark... dank... moldy... something rumbled in Buzz' head. _Gzanng__, kaboom_...

_Was that still the thunderstorm?_ _No... it could not be. It had ceased while he had walked in the forest. Or had it come back...?_

No, his dizzy mind made it up. Little by little the man opened his woozy, tacky eyes. The world was swirling around him, in a great whirlpool shaded with black and blue. An iron band of pain squeezed his already cramped cranium, trying to compress it into mere quarks. Hard, throbbing ache spread all the way from his occiput and beat pounding against his temples. This infernal bongo drum made him again and again flicker out back in to the frowzy sewer of unconsciousness.

Then the thought appeared. Someone had _hit_ him. Someone... or something... he had not even noticed. The last memento was that he had rushed panting through the woods. 

_Yes, there had been that thunderstorm... a stupid idea to expose himself that way to the killer lightning bolts, but he just had to go on, had to get forwards...He had to put an end to this manic play. He would not draw anyone else into this; it was up to him to stop the diabolic invisible enemy. A second sacrifice was too much. If Mira was gone, who would be the next one? No, he would not allow anyone to become the next one. There simply was no such option as some third innocent citizen suffering something atrocious in some maniac's hands._

_Where to he was dashing, was not even quite clear. The hints were so frail. Yet, he had to be on the right way...the ruins were there somewhere. If Yoka had seen them, they had to exist... _

But that the wet, rain-scented air had transformed into _this_? This stuffy, dark _something_. If he only could get rid of the spinning and whirling, and understand where he was...Gradually, very slowly all became clearer, though. He sensed a floor under his palms. It felt very repulsive; the surface was craggy and cold. But ultimately he tweaked himself to sit up. 

_He had been lying on a floor? How long and where...?_ These notions were the most instant ones. There were no floors in the middle of thick vegetation, were there? Someone had brought him somewhere... Groaning he took a better pose, raising up his furthermore swirly regard from the slatternly surface. Why did it have that odd glow anyway? Or was his head still so miry that it made up a hallucination? Wearily he shifted his pupils away from that dreamlike gleam. More fuzzy shadows... was there someone lying opposite to him? Buzz brought a set of fingers to massage his temples and squinted. 

Yet, a shrill yelp of sudden horror fled from his throat, as he conceived _what_ he was watching face to face at. Bee-lined, a few meters away from him, the hollow eye sockets of a grayed, sooty human scull stared back at him. Its jaw hung half open, as if its grimacing mouth was cruelly gurgling him welcome.

In chaotic panic, Buzz backed up towards the wall behind him. It had been quite a shock to snap awake this way; the first sight being a morbid corpse cheering there so bonily. He cast a glance around the room, his back glued now onto the grained wall astern of him. Where _was_ he? He gazed again at the skeleton, his corner of eye telling that there was another one lying a little distance away. The first terrified notion of this dead being perhaps someone he knew, was whisked aside by the fact that the carcass was ages old. It still had some semi-decayed, crumpled, drooping garments on. Apparently it had once worn a deep-red velvet swallowtail with ruffs on the cuffs and collars, and black starched trousers, which were now however all broken and moldy.

"Yick!" Lightyear grimaced. Even the dungeons on Planet Z felt cozier than this macabre place. He sat inside some sort of cubicle. And that blue light appeared not to be an illusion, it truly emitted it. There seemed to be none kind of entrance or exit... how had he gotten in?

However, the answer was given him before he had even reflected it further on. A creak jarred in his ears. The right-side wall of the chamber had begun to slide open tardily. As the gab widened, more light flooded in, with the sight of heavy iron bars blocking the freedom behind it. Then something, or someone... a black figure stood behind the grating in an open corridor.

The Captain gawped at this appeared person as if it had carried a badly stereotypical fancy dress of something that tried looking ghoulishly spooky. It had ink-black long robes on, covering its whole body from crown to feet -or whatever then was under there. It was about the same height and weight of Buzz, if not exactly in the equal measures. A deep-drawn hood covered its face wholly. Only a pair of sharp, vilely grinning eyes were visible from the abysses of the cowl. In its gloved hand, the murky one kept a small staff. What was more, it did not seem to stand at all, but hovered a few inches over the floor slabs. Its breath rattled with a scornful laughter, as it observed the prisoner from its freedom.

"Did you enjoy your nap, Buzz?" it unexpectedly asked. Lightyear winced, escaping on his legs. _That voice..._ _it was_ _his voice_.

_Was that the fiend he had been looking for? It was not invisible, it truly had a form of a human. Just like he had expected. But still in those robes, it looked like a real ghost._

_But that voice... he had so many times pondered the secret of it. Was the mystery behind the unseen going to be revealed now?_

But distorting Buzz' musings, the Shadow spoke again.

"Hmm... seemingly not enjoying then. The oh-I-am-so-brave-and-cool space ranger willing to have answers?"

This was like swinging a cutlet in front of an angry lion. Buzz attacked against the bars, yelling. "Yes! I will have answers, and I will have them now! Craters, what is this foul play? It's you, who's been behind this all the time, haven't you? You wrote those messages! You..." He banged the grating violently, fury blazing in his eyes. But the black figure seized him and put him to fly backwards by extending the staff. 

A green flash of light momentarily dyed the musty wall stones with yellowish glare. Buzz convulsed on the floor like a spider in shock. His bones were on fire, and he was sure that his head was to split open; so forceful was the blast of the Shadow's viper weapon. The pain did not end when the laser-plasma pulse ceased. Panting for breath the prisoner lay beside the skeleton he had been scared earlier.

"Tsut, tsut, tsut, shouldn't be too zealous, hehe. Why don't you say hello to your ancestors at first?"

Buzz frowned at the carcass, not quite comprehending what the enemy had on his tongue. "Ancestors? What do you know about my ancestors? What is this sick game?"

"Ohh I think I do know a lot more than you, little innocent Buzz... who has always been so keen on praising the glory of goodness, and the virtues of the Lightyears... hehehe. Goody-doody Buzz Lightyear. Too bad you are such a mudblood and not like the majority. You could have had great prospects to become something worthy, but I guess the blood in your family has badly begun to devolve. What a shame, otherwise you could have become perhaps a brilliant ally for me... But you've remained to be such a lovesick fool who weeps after some monkey chick and shudders all alone in his misery... all that kissy-wissy alphabet learning and other mushy love-dove melodrama... makes me want to puke!" the hooded one gagged after his initial tirade. "Do you think the old glorious Dark Lightyears would have tolerated such defamation?" his voice was tuned into high-pitched mockery imitation, "_Yoka honey, what's the matter? Are you feeling all sad? Come here, let's make you a good cup of tea and_... Yick!" 

The Captain sat blankly, panting furiously. What was that cloud of gobbledygook supposed to be? _Lightyear blood?_ And this continuous lecture about the ancestors, spiced now with those insulting words concerning Yoka. How dared that diabolical foe offend his wife like that? Besides, what was this place? Yet his mind was so blurry that the first outcoming shout was only a feeble attempt of defense.

"Wha--- how do you think you know--- How do you know what my family is supposed to be?"

"Now don't interrupt me, when I tell you. I know you're always so keen to hear _answers_ and _reasons_ and all kinds of boring blah-blah-blah. So shut your trap when I _explain_ so that your pint-sized brains can handle it", the capturer sneered and played with the snake staff. "Still don't understand that I lived in your house, side by side with you and your chick almost from the first night on? As I said... _I'm everywhere and anywhere, nowhere to be seen_... hahahaha! Ahh now that was poetic."

Buzz stared at the person vacantly.

"I heard, I learned, I watched, and had some brilliant fun! Hahaha, your cute girl seemingly didn't enjoy really the tricks I did. Too bad, it was priceless! Oh well, nowadays she's starting to lose her senses. It isn't any more all that fun as it was at the beginning. Hah, the chick can't recognize the difference, thinks it's _you_ who's doing this to her, hehehehe."

Lightyear exhaled with extreme frenzy. Bellowing, he made another attack towards the bars. "WHAT? _WHAT_ have you done to Yoka? Where is she--- AAAAAGGHHHHHHAAAAAHHH!" He was sent flying across the cell once more.

"We're not getting too hot-headed today," the figure laughed coldly. "She's mainly waiting for her death now. Though, it's a little pity to finish her off, such a sassy girl, she has a lot more attitude than you. But as long as she's alive, I have my intentions to benefit from my prisoners. I really didn't have at first in mind that I could actually use you as my puppet as long as I have a full control over her. You know, all that pathetic heroic stuff... I bet you're ready to do _anything_ for me as long as I don't hurt your pitiful chick. Hahaha."

"You... get... your filthy hands... off... her..." the hurt man hissed through his teeth. This time it was harder to get up from the floor, since the hit of that green flash had been more forceful. But the enemy just jeered.

"See, that's just what I mean. '_You get your filthy hands of her... jabber jabber jabber_'..." he imitated again with falsetto. "You just have no attitude. The first thing you manage to produce is _that_, and you suppose that I'm going to _react_ to that somehow? Well, it gives me some good laughs, strictly taken. Then you go on with lecturing how evil never wins, and how you believe in freedom and justice and so on. How predictable and pathetic."

The jailbird sat quiet. Yes, that thing was _right_. It helped nothing, how much he ever would bluster and thunder.

"Yes, and then you ask for motives. Well, I have no motives. I just do things because I find them amusing. Just like Zurg used to do. Heard he's dead. I'd have had two choices concerning him, either to pay him back for ruining my life, or to ally with him, knock him down from his throne and thus eventually rule even _this_ galaxy..." the Shadow's voice had been lowered into a wolverine snarl for a moment, but soon regained its malevolently cheerful tone. "Hmm. Although... when I come to think of it, perhaps I _do_ have motives after all. This, everything... maybe I could consider it as an intriguing game. Command and conquer, or something like that." He brought a hand on the place of his chin, as if contemplating, "...and now after living years in near death, in mere vanity, what do you think is my deepest will? To rise again, to see how far I can go, how many pathetic worming people will cringe in front of me before they die, hahaha..."

During this little rant, Buzz' expression had been lifted from the pits of the beastlike anger to the empyreans of sheer confusion. Why did this talk suddenly sound so eerily familiar? Those little bits of colubrine words had revealed a lot more information than the ghost's whole essence this far.

_Who on Mars was this diabolic ghoul?_ While the menace jeeringly went on with his self-praises, Buzz played with that sentence in his mouth. Previously, based on the voice and the way of speaking, he had darkly assumed the foe to be some unknown relative of his. Perhaps someone like that Mizar, who had killed his mother. But suddenly there was a whole new range of possibilities.

_What if this person was nothing he had assumed it to be?_ _This gloating about life being a game of destruction...This cackle about all that ultimate dominance...Why did he have the hunch he had heard this a few times before... years ago..._

His spine gave a shutter. It felt as though someone had just showed a whole swimming pool full of ice cubes down his collars. What if...

"No, it's impossible. It can't be _he_, can it?" Lightyear lifted his eyes from the floor to examine the ghost from the shadows. "How could he be on Morph? In a place like this? It... it's impossible! Blast! He was supposed to be dead! He couldn't have survived, could he...?" However, as the seconds went on, the belief was glued more and more firmly on its basis. On the other hand, it just seemed to lack every bit of sense. What was this gibberish about the ancestors? The desire for revenge and sneaky plots Buzz could comprehend grandly, but the other unexplored side was so nebulous.

The Morphean obviously pushed his morose anger slightly aside, as these notions filled his scull. Could he possibly try to slip some quick questions in the middle of the Shadow's boasting? Hence he might grow with savvy and perhaps understand...

He lifted his hinterland up, and for the third time, walked towards the barred barricade. But the blueness in his eyes remained icily calm. He still hoped that he would be wrong in his expectations. If not, the opposed figure was an individual known as the living nightmare. No mercy of any kind could be expected from its side. He was merely something possessed that had a black octopus in the place of its heart. 

"Impressing outfit. What's that for?" he began his semi-sly query, scowling darkly. "Reminds me of one forgotten cult that diabolically used to plague this town a few hundred years ago. Kind of remember its members used similar kinds of robes."

The foe abruptly fell silent. The glint in his oculars adopted a surprised scorn. The it laughed, "Hahahaha, dramatizing the atmosphere as always Buzz Lightyear does! Even hushing the end of the blabber to make it sound so solemn and important! What a jerk. But at least your slow cerebration has figured out something. Yes, my outfit _is_ really impressing. One hundred percent Nex Crucio quality. It was actually on him", the enemy pointed at the nearest, unclothed skeleton on the prison floor. "Didn't need it any more, so I was free to borrow it. Hahah. As if I'd need to _borrow_. I take what I want if I want."

This made the Captain blink. Another waterfall of unreciprocated queries was suddenly on his tongue, brought forth by the sheer effect of that Latin term. He had mainly thrown in the cult reference as a sarcasm.

Nonetheless... it tangled together with the parcel of unopened mysteries. But what, how, why? What did He-Who-Could-Not-Be-Yet-Quite-Surely-Named possibly have to do with a cult decayed centuries ago? And what was it with the claim about the forefathers? That male standing in front of him had said that these two skeletons were _his ancestors_? 

Nevertheless, as if the Shadow had read Buzz' mind, it had begun drawling again.

"Ahh then your _unanswered questions_, hehehe. I can so easily guess what you were going to squeak next, I saw it from your face. So predictable... ahh well. In case you wonder where you are, you're in the old Headquarters of Nex Crucio. Not perhaps the most dweller-friendly house, but has kept me decently alive the few years of my destruction. And as my guest, you of course have received the nicest cell with those two joyful roommates, hehehe. But, although the environment is a tad dusty, I have quite neat chambers with electricity and such necessities. But, I have to steal my food from Kaon, which is of course humiliating for a superior being like me", he hawked and started toying again with the snake cane, as if it had been his most cherished childhood plaything. He went on blabbering about things that merely did not even fit his explanations. But obviously it was in his human nature to ramble every once in a while incoherently, before recalling the straight topic and returning to it. "Oh yes, although my life has been merely pitiful hiding, I haven't been bored. Far away from that. See, I have a neat library here, left from the golden times of Nex Crucio. I know all about it. Impressive, most impressive. And what's more, the books are full of familiar names and familiar-looking faces..."

Lightyear's visage stood adamant. "What do you mean?"

"Well... I wasn't ready to take the part-time job of a history teacher, but perhaps you'd need a tiny lesson about the intriguing facts concerning your funky forefathers", the sneerer took a more comfortable pose. "You seem to know at least something about Nex Crucio, but obviously not the most delicious tidbits. But let's recapitulate, a bit. Hundreds of years ago, when humans moved on Morph, this cult was founded by some fellows who considered Morph's natives, well... rather devolved and primitive. Those certain individuals saw themselves being far much higher with their race, and also wanted to show it. They wanted the city of Kaon and some nearby lands to be only for humans. Their target was to eliminate as much natives as they could, and scare the rest away. And crossbreeding was another horror for them. The cult members periodically napped people... either those that were natives or in too close relations with them..." the robed one cast a glance around, "They tortured and killed them here, kept them withering inside these cells, and so on. I think you can imagine what I mean. And, outside, all these neatly dark personalities were just plain citizens, had families, looked so innocent. Ah, I really must raise my thumbs up for their sneakiness!"

Buzz listened, with a grim expression, squeezing the bars with his fists.

"Haha, the cult kept the city in cold fear. Nex Crucio was something so horrible for them, they could only talk about it in whispers. No-one knew... no-one understood. And those, who found out, either joined it or then died. But, gradually a rebel rose in the town. Someone had skipped sides, and told, told everything he knew about the cult. Then, one night, it was Nex Crucio against the rest of the city. People armed with guns and blasters and such stuff gathered up to defend the pathetic things called 'peace and justice'. Bah, what wretches. Ahh well... sad enough, that night was the end of the cult. They found the terrain fortress, blew it up, and caught most of the members." The shadow whisked a bit his robes, as if being frustrated, "But, they didn't know about these underground places that never got destroyed. The old tower up there was just a coulisse. Yes... some of those Nex Crucio folks, who escaped the furious crowd that night, of course came down here. A few others were lucky to flee the planet I suppose. But for some reason those who came here, didn't get out. Obviously the entrances collapsed, as the upper buildings were destroyed. So they stayed here a bit longer than they thought..."

Buzz' eyes had stagnated wide for a while now. During the last sentence, the icky facts were getting a clearer image. '_Stayed a bit longer...'_

"So, you can say finally hi to Zoxewa Kazor Lightyear and his brother Jardaz Lightyear, he's further there dressed in that red rag. Hahahaha. At that time, they were the leaders of Nex Crucio. Impressive, I must say again. Jardaz once looked a lot like your dad, in case you didn't know. What I don't still understand since your rotten dad was supposed to be dead too!"

"No... you're lying..." the Captain snarled disbelief. The names and accusations swirled in his vision in a morose rollercoaster. He was suddenly back in his father's library room, inspecting the holo-picture of the same brothers. Next, he re-lived the horrors of the moment when Zora had crying bellowed out the secret of Mizar. Next, a jump to the hazy rooms on Planet Z... him holding the loose helmet of Zurg, watching straight into his father's pleading eyes...

_His family... no, it had to be a cruel lie..._

"Lightyear, you brainless twit... oh can't you finally see it?" the Shadow mocked him, "You think you come from a noble, virtuous family? Generations cherishing goodness... blast, you've been brainwashed. It's the dark side that's strong in your family. You're a descendant of pure evil, Buzz. And if you think it starts or ends to Jardaz or Zoxewa... no. They weren't the only Lightyears in the cult. I've read that the most loyal members rose up from your family, and that lasted for generations. Some of the remained ones, and I mean _Lightyears_, tried later on to revive Nex Crucio, but never really succeeded. But thanks to them, at least a few functions of this nice fortress were fixed like the secret entrances. I have no idea what happened to them, why they couldn't rebuild their brilliant organization, hah. And why they never tossed the skeletons off from here, I don't know that either. Well, not my business." He drew himself closer to Buzz, who glazedly stared at him with utmost fury, "But... I'm quite jealous that you have such an estate. If I'd have ancestors as noble as this... but blah. Do you know how worthless you are to carry the Lightyear blood since you've become just the opposite of what you should be? You should have become like _me_... but some bizarre odds made you such a whiny saint. If I had had such heritage in my world..."

The gaolbird felt sick in the stomach. All the little hints and tales he had heard about his family were suddenly jammed inside his chest, making it heavy as an erratic boulder. And that there, behind him, lay two mere monsters... whose genes and reputation he bore?

_Dark Lightyears_... Killers and devils to the last bit... His world, his precious world, all shattering... Was he alike, after all? The dark side had sat so deep in him once it had bound its claws around his throat. But no wonder why, he deliberated. No wonder why, if it was _this_ what he carried in his veins...

His intestines gave a salty lurch. Obviously they had trouble to keep inside the little food he had eaten hours ago. Some bad-tasting goo squirmed upwards his throat, but he swallowed it with effort.

On the other hand, Buzz Lightyear needed no more guesswork to set at least a few pieces to the right spots, while standing at this foggy jigsaw puzzle of chaos. He knew now who the enemy was. As illogical and weird as it still sounded like, he was dead certain. Only one person in this whole universe carried the vile characteristics of this shadowy peril.

Despite the worming in his stomach, he straightened his pose. His steely voice broke the topic thoroughly, tossing the ancestry away.

"I know who you are."

The Shadow's eyes expressed sheer wonder for a nanosecond. Then the jeering smirk was back. "Oh, you do?"

"Yes."

"Hahah, did it take so long from your chipmunk brains to figure it out?"

He lowered his hood and let it fall sloppily down.

Buzz' expression remained inexorable.

And somewhere spaces beyond, Emperor Zurg struggled with his nightmare...

But how on Tellus was Buzz caught into such a dilemma, him getting captured and thrown into this musty underworld? Was he not supposed to be at home, thinking of ways to stop these doggone mishaps?

Yes, he had deliberated... and thought he had finally found a means. But apparently the cruel odds had ruined it thoroughly. 

**...to be continued...**


	15. The two visages of Buzz Lightyear

_It had been a late Saturday evening..._

Outside, the air wafted with odorous scents of blooming meadows, spiced with the soft warmth of a beginning summer night. The winds were almost ridiculously honeyed, as if sardonically jeering to the one whose mind was buried under a cold tombstone of worries. A few fluffy clouds floated across the sky, which was turning navy-blue as the sun strolled downwards.

So, out there the sickenly sweet panorama continued its mocking. But inside Buzz' house, in the unlit living-room, one desperate space ranger fought against a beginning headache. The mental devastation drove his head to feel like as if it had been slowly chiseled into pieces. He sat in a bent pose on the edge of the sofa, massaging his temples. A curled piece of parchment lay on the adjacent padding.

This note was the origin of terrors. How much everything had turned worse just in one single day...

_It had gotten Mira._

_It had gotten her. What would be his next move?_

And just yesterday... they had been here, the whole team. Asking questions... Lightyear had thought he had been able to throw them off the track. Now as he leafed through the journal of past miseries, he understood how transparent his behavior had been. Or at least Nova had seen it only as a cloud of bluff. And gone further with the spying... further... and further... _too far_.

Buzz raised his eyes and picked up the parchment once more. The scarily familiar handwriting laughed out the cold sentences against his face.

_"What happened to the curious bluebird that crossed the road...?"_  The comfortless message enclosed nothing else but the Shadow's cackling announce of how he had caught the second prey. Gloating it explained how the Tangean had decided to stay the night in the town and how he had cleverly lured her into the doom. And under the cacophonic confusion of his mind, Buzz knew this was no lie.

"I have to stop this... somehow..." he kept repeating to himself. "I have to get them back. But I must do it alone, somehow... Blast! Why is everything turning against me? But I may not mess anyone else into this anymore! It'll possibly be dad or someone else who's going to suffer next... and how on blazes does father know _so much_? He isn't supposed to know anything about Yoka and still he sends Team Nova here? He's such a strange goof-off fooling around with adverse alphabet anancasm and other absurdities hinting to mental dotage; so how can he be so clever?" He shook his head in disbelief. "But that diabolic foe will somehow persuade him into some dreadful snare sooner or later. And who knows, maybe there are more villains behind this than just one."

Buzz thumbed his Van Dyke distractedly. "Odd... how it still looks so obvious that this someone is working alone. Possible henchmen would have contacted me until now. And where could he be hiding? I haven't seen ships... can't be so far away, can it?" A sigh wriggled out of his chest. The logic was washed away once again, since he had not even seen the whole enemy face to face. Just heard the laughter of invisibility, and received a ton of these threatening letters. They seemed to come from the same roll of parchment, since many of their ripped edges matched like jigsaw puzzle pieces.

Thus... what was sure? Maybe there was a ship, maybe there was a whole city of invisible things somewhere. No, no, that was stupid reasoning. The foe had to be lurking nearby somewhere. Perhaps in some sheltered place that nobody could expect to conceal evilness. Yes, that was how Buzz himself would do it if he wanted to hide... in the nook least expected.

"Fiendishly clever scheme... Am I after all starting to find the logic? I have to! I have to stop it! I have to find the hideout!" Lightyear squinted his eyes, his hand clenching around the rag. He was beginning to boil in the cauldron of his anger, gradually forgetting the oppressing bewilderment. It was a positive effect that the antipathy raised his fallen self-esteem again, but also made him rather venturesome. Although he would have believed being able to take a hundred men down single-handedly, the reality was not that promising. The Shadow had means he had no clue of. What kind of weapons possibly hid behind the unseen? What was he to face eventually? The beginning of the end, if the worst was expected?

And yet, the main question was still open. _How to find out?_

"Now, think..." Buzz hammered his forehead with his fingers, "Do not let the fear and anger control you. Anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. And that's the path back to the dark side. There. So, Mira stayed the night in Kaon. Then it would make sense that the crime has happened this morning. The note did not tell where, but it clearly told that Mira went somewhere where she was kidnapped. But it can't be far away, by lofty lunulas! Let's see... I need to figure out where she went! That should push me a bit further."

Abruptly, a mosaic of clear conceptions was emerging from the subliminal fog. It resembled very much the means the Tangean herself had used in order to track Yoka-hanen. To ask if someone had seen her... to find out where she had stopped overnight and try to search for more hints that way.

But there was the vast dilemma of how to do it so that this villain would not notice him. He and his sneaky eyes could be generally anywhere. Perhaps even in this very house, right at the moment...

Buzz jerked due to his wild-running imagination. He cast a nervous glance around the empty room, listening to every rustle possibly coming from the shady alcoves.

_Did he hear someone breathing...?_

No, those were his own gasps. The jumpy Lightyear perceived how his heart was pounding like a mad drumstick against his sternum. Since Yoka's disappearance, this house had begun feeling so abhorrent. As if it was grimly haunted from inside, and gave such a falsely mild look from outside... He literally had grown to hate this place during the last few days. If the man had been able to burn the whole building down just right now, he would not have hesitated to shake the dirt off his shoes and leave only smoldering ruins behind. Everything here teased him about the absence of his dearest; every inch of furniture reminded him of the few gentle moments they had shared here... before the bale had fallen.

The Captain rose up, and walked tardily towards the staircase. Up he ascended, until the last floor was reached. There, he opened a small closet nearby the landing. His old space ranger uniform greeted him from the inners, with its gleaming white surface and surgically clean green trimmings. He still cherished his past through this piece of history. It had been fully repaired after the crash-land of Forty-Two, just like the Mother Ship herself. 

He detached the wristcom and attached it around his arm. These wrist widgets meant for harsh fieldwork had tremendously much more useful functions than those the white-collar division of the Universe Protection used. By clicking a sequence of keys, he activated a small infrared detector. The open screen showed a rough view of the environment, him in the middle as a reddish, blurry dot.

The diameter was not that magnificent, but there were no other red spots around.

_Was he really alone?_ He could not _see_ the menace, but could he possibly _detect_ it? Or was it using invisibility that sucked even the body heat?

He had no clue. 

_What was its nature...? How did it move...? Had it all a pattern he had not comprehended...?_

An ambivalent idea rose up from the sea of haze. It _had_ a pattern, after all. The rival avoided open, crowded places. It never had followed him to work, or to the city center, had it? Of course Lightyear could not be perfectly assured of this notion, but it had a glow of perfection. His ranger intuition was slapping him encouragingly on the back; the Captain had stepped a gait forwards. So... could he possibly find out something about Mira while he was working? Would he be safe in the populated Space Ranger Recruit Office? Or was he being eavesdropped somehow...?

Not likely. What he recalled from the times when Yoka had been haunted by the Shadow, it had all happened _here_. Far away from the teeming city centre.

And there were no infinite shelves of alternatives to select from. This was his first and only better plan.

So, as he would go to work on Monday, he would make calls. Figure out where Nova had stayed the night, and if especially needed, go to visit the place personally. It would be a huge risk, but as said, the options were dying down. Yet, there had to be some eyewitnesses...

***********

Two days later Buzz sat on the same padding of the living-room sofa, holding another piece of parchment in his hands. It was suffocatingly hot. The sky was draped in colossal, deep-gray clouds. A distant rumble boomed in the horizon, the hollow sound of thunder. The beginning storm had not yet reached Kaon; here the atmosphere was stuffed with the pre-thundery, dank, inert air.

Lightyear was sweating so much that his hair was glued onto his forehead and his palms left wet marks everywhere. It was not just the heat bringing the hot water drops to roll down his temples. Mostly it was the horrid mental anticipation that had struck him so hard.

_He knew where Mira had gone._

In his shaking fingers he was squeezing the map piece that had been enclosed once in her letter. He had found it while inspecting the room that had been given her in the Bates Motel. There was no doubt of its origins, it all matched. The handwriting, the same ripped parchment... It had been lying behind the room's large desk. That was why Mr. Bates had not noticed it when he had come to clean the cabin later.

Nova had apparently dropped it there unnoticed. Namely, she had used the satellite scan print as her guide while walking towards the demolished turret. So the hastily drawn doodle had had no further use.

Today, Buzz had indeed made his calls. And craftily pulled the right strings to snatch just the evidence Booster and XR had not been able to discover in the same time.

_Mira had gone there. In the place the large 'X' marked..._

_If it even existed... was it so sure, after all...?_

His eyes widened, as he abruptly remembered something Yoka-hanen had told weeks ago. Ruins in the forest. Old ruins. And what had he read in the closed Detective Division Network? Was the X pointing at the destroyed Nex Crucio Headquarters?

_Nana Lightyear's bedtime stories told about a great evil the __Forest__ had hid in itself... _

Buzz felt so unreal.

Even more unreal as he went to put on his space ranger suit, and checked that the laser worked.

And the unreality embraced the forest as he entered it in a cineritious cloudburst. The thunderstorm had been finally conjured above Kaon.

Hours later he understood that his laser was removed and the jetpack whacked broken...

_______________________________________________

_______________________________________________

Back in the musty halls of the Nex Crucio Headquarters, Buzz Lightyear and the Shadow stared at one another. Or rather to say, two Buzz Lightyears glared at one another. The major variation between the appearances was that the one wearing black robes had a tad more bluish tint in his hair and beard, and that the raven locks fell into his eyes more on the right side. There the outer differences ended. But if the hearts were compared, there the universes were ripped apart. No mind blacker and tyrannical was there than the one of the Evil Buzz Lightyear from the chaotic mirror universe.

The space ranger's face stood ruthless, his mouth being a thin, determined line. The enemy then again gradually started fidgeting annoyed. The prisoner did not seem to be rather shocked after he had revealed his face.

"Aren't you surprised at all to see me?" he croaked and fumbled his hood not knowing whether to set it back or not.

"I won't give you the pleasure of gloating over my disturbance. I said I know who you are. So why should I jump to the ceiling just because I happened to be right?"

The Shadow frowned from under his bushy black brows. The lantern that was propped onto the floor, created a sickly green glow around. It made the foe's visage look even unhealthier, as the callous lumen colored his scleras and teeth with the same shade of toxin. He had prominent wrinkles under his eyes, slightly deeper than those of Buzz'. The Morphean's face had been stamped with the premature lines of emotional suffering; this other muck carried the labels of physical withering. However, the difference between these two forms of torment was not all that clear from outside. The anguish only drew its grooves across one's physiognomy, not telling why and how they had been scratched there.

Lightyear broke the strained silence. "...the only thing I'm surprised about is that _how_ you have ended up here. I'm not at all amazed to see you using again your twisted evil means to produce chaos. You have never had any bits of goodness in you, have you? But I always thought you plotted your schemes for something more _larger-scale_ than just to capture my wife and Mira..."

A flame of anger flashed in the Shadow's pupils. One of the things he hated most was someone comparing him with some wretched minor skunk. His fingers tightened around the viper staff, and it sent green fire towards the cell bars. But Buzz had expected this. He ducked in time, and the plasma-laser pulse hit the wall behind him.

_"YOU RUINED MY UNIVERSE, BUZZ LIGHTYEAR! I WILL PAY IT BACK! EVEN IF IT STARTS AS A SMALL THING, I WILL PAY IT ALL BACK! I WILL DESTROY YOU AND THIS PATHETIC GALAXY!" _the manic man bellowed on the top of his lungs, not obviously even noticing he had missed the shot. "Don't you puny twerp question my might! You will be afraid! Because of you I became this darned half-dead invalid; because of you, I lost once even the minor things I had planned to destroy your stupid Capital Planet and its useless crawling fleas!" Foam was dripping out of the crook's mouth. His frenzy had reached some sort of summit, and gradually was beginning to climb down the fury mountain. But that did not draw away the impression of a rabid bat, as he hissed, flapped his black cape, and sent spit showers out of his maw.

The space ranger raised a brow. He quite did not stir under the threats and bawling. Now that he knew with whom he was dealing, part of the stress had been wiped away temporarily.

"Invalid? I thought you were in a perfect condition. With those swift movements to shoot me and all."

"Oh, oh, you say so, huh?" Evil Buzz glowered, "Well guess again, idiot. After you and your stupid companion destroyed my Sunstation, it has been just a continuous downfall for me! Look at me, you witless monkey!" he raised a corner of his long robe, revealing a pair of heavy age-old boots carrying bare wires and circuits all over them. It looked as though they were partly hand-made; obviously rebuilt from something that had lain unused for mere centuries. Yet, with this footwear he was able to literally float in the air. Upper, just beneath the kneeline, his shins were strapped with some sort of tight surgical bandages. "Look at me! My legs are useless! They barely can support my weight, walking is impossible! And thanks to your chick who has kept kicking me, they have gone worse! Even sitting hurts. But... " he let the hem fall back down, "...at least I am alive. Most of my muscles had atrophied too, but I was able to grow them back with electric stimulation. But all this, this pathetic illness, all your fault!"

"How so?" the man behind the grating snorted, "I haven't heard from you since you fell into that sun. It was all your evilness that drove you into that. If you had surrendered and given up the paths of wrongdoing, perhaps that would have never happened, whatever happened to you then. Assumingly you were hurt in the explosion. But you can't blame me from something that was caused by your greediness to destroy everything!"

"Oh, now it's MY FAULT suddenly? What? No, it was you and that stupid Tangean and that idiotic lightbulb head Gravitina who foiled it all! I could have escaped the place with a good time limit unless that stupid chick had not gotten jammed under the debris and you with your goody-doody-melodramatic attitude to save her had not distracted me!"

"Hmh. That's for caring for her, then. And all that muffin-wuffin-whatever stuff in front of us, just another play of yours?"

"For once I have to give you a point for guessing something right, Lightyear", the Shadow sneered, "Once I would have gotten the upper hand of this Galaxy, I would have fed that chick to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beasts of Traal. I don't need allies _if_ I have the _full control_. They are just muck on my way. But as long as I am not the High Supreme Commander of Everything, I unfortunately would need to keep some cringing henchmen..."

Buzz responded nothing, solely just rolled his eyes.

"Ah yes, it's you again willing to know logical reasons to everything..." the menace shifted the topic as remembering the Morphean's older question.  "Willing to know how I ended up here? Huh? Well, I can tell you, we have nothing but time... Well..." he went on with his snarly mutter. It brought him perhaps some sort of twisted relief to squawk out his miseries and blame someone innocent on them. "It wasn't actually the falling into the sun that did this to me... but what happened afterwards. Do you see, you puny-brained bigot, that if I had reached my ship, I would have been saved. But instead, I was forced to stay long time in space just with my suit on. I flew for a while with the aid of a loose jet I had saved from the Sunstation ruins. But it began soon malfunctioning, and there I was, in the middle of nothing, wearing a space suit whose jetpack had gone broken. Sure I was able to retain my speed, the one the jet had given me, but that it was. No planets nearby, I had no idea where I eventually was. After a certain amount of hours, the life support system of the suit began sending me to hypersleep. With no water and food there, in that dratted vacuum, I would have died in a few days. I tried fighting against the anesthetics that would put out my vital functions, but in vain. So, I fell into hypersleep... and wake up _two years later_, in some dark, damp place, so weak that I barely could move! _Two years_! Do you know what two years in a non-gravitational hypersleep does to your body? Such a void makes your bones brittle, your muscles wither away, you become just a sick pathetic wreck! Human body needs the gravitation; it can't survive endlessly in nothingness, even if in hypersleep. A bit more time, and I would have possibly wasted away totally."

Buzz listened, recalling how he had scanned the sun's area after the Sunstation's explosion, and how no track of Evil Buzz had been spotted. The cloaked individual continued his bark.

"So, then one moment I wake up, horrible pain everywhere, my space suit all torn, everything broken except the stupid clock of my wristcom... All alone, no clue where I was. The instant my eyes began seeing after the long-lasting haze of the awakening process, I understood I was in a forest of some sort. But then I had no time to think; I was starving, I was sweltering, this impossible ache everywhere. Blast... Then I saw water. A few meters distance I saw a little pond that saved me from dehydration. Gradually I started dragging myself forwards, although I kept losing my conscious every other hour. Darn it, I was living by eating grass and roots like some mindless animal, worming in the ground just with my elbows. Days went on and I found nothing, no civilization whatsoever. I was afraid that some beast would eat me while I was defenseless and weak, but for my surprise there were no carnivores around. I gradually began feeling better, I would not fall unconscious any more... I began telling myself that I have to survive and take my revenge on you. I tried thinking how I had ended up in this unknown place. Did not understand it then, but later, yes. Obviously during the two years of floating in space, I had traveled so far that the gravitational field of this sodden planet napped me and I crushed on it like some stupid meteorite. Apparently my space suit had saved me once again, by decelerating the fall and keeping the frictional heat away. But all the same, it was destroyed in the drop."

The man paced around, walking on air, casting malevolent glances towards the prisoner.

"One day I came upon something weird. At first I was thinking I saw just big rocks in front of me, but no. They were ruins. I was seeing signs of civilized life; this place was inhabited after all. But while I was approaching the stones, I suddenly fell. There had been a hole in the ground hidden by all the vegetation. The drop didn't do good for my body, but what did I find? Regarding my state, I found a paradise. I found _this_, an abandoned fortress under the ground. I had fallen through some forgotten exit, which the last Nex Crucio members had fixed after the major collapse of the cult. I wasn't lost in the tunnels since after some crawling I found the main chambers. The place had electricity, water generators, heating, even a small storage of canned food. I found my sanctuary here, I found clothes and shelter. I was afraid at first to eat the food stocks since they looked like hundreds of years old. But since I had no choice, I tried them, and didn't die. But that way I was able to recover a great deal, although it took very long. But... after I had found a means to walk without my destroyed legs -meaning that I took your nice ancestor Zoxewa Lightyear's hover boots and repaired them; in case you didn't get the thing, you blob-brained idiot- I simply started looking about the surroundings here... So, I quite soon found Kaon, and could eventually locate myself. Thanks to your impressive forefathers, I was also able to move around incognito. See, Zoxewa had something really amazing in the pocket of his robes. A large cloth that has a light-interferating surface. I bet those capes were quite fancy shelters in the secret attacks the cult members made against the Grays. No wonder the police could not track them, hahaha. Who's able to track invisible people? Hahahah."    

Buzz frowned. The story sounded so impossible that nobody could actually have fictionally created it out of his head. So apparently this time Evil Buzz Lightyear was not cheating.

"So, why didn't you then leave this place behind if you can move so freely around? What's keeping you from stealing a ship and flying away?" the Captain indignantly tapped the bars with his fingers.

"I've always said you're an idiot, Lightyear, and I say it again", the Shadow's lip curled. "Can't you still get it? How am I supposed to _drive a ship_ in this condition? I can't control pedals, and my hands tend to spasm. And don't start whining about autopilots", he added as he saw the jailbird opening his mouth, "If you are too thick to understand things, then shut up, don't shout out your stupidity. You'll embarrass yourself less that way. I..."

Abruptly the vile man flopped quiet. His regard turned distinct, as if some sort of deep vagary had popped up in his cranium. He slowly raised a few fingers to stroke his whiskers. A lopsided, maliciously twisted smile was tardily spreading across that face. His eyes narrowed into slits as he pondered the notion that had conquered his frontal lobe.

"But that's it... I actually _could_ get away from here... darn it, why haven't I come to think of further alternatives during these years?" with a violent waft, he turned to meet his captive, his simper widening into a toothy grin. "With _your help_ I could do actually anything I want! Or do you want to see your li'l kitten suffer?" he drew his madness-gleaming visage closer to Buzz, the green light dancing in his wicked oculars, "Do you want to watch closely how I put your sweetheart to scream in pain? Huh? Would that be fun to watch?"

The space ranger paced a few steps backwards in horror. Evil Buzz was making faces with a scull-like grimace behind the bars. That slick, smooth voice of the foe was like venom for his ears. That sadistic, sick man could not possess any sort of humanity, could he?

"D-Don't you touch Yoka..." he panted, shaking a warning finger in the air.

"_Don't you touch Yoka!_" the second Buzz mocked with a high-pitched voice. "Oh yes I will, unless you obey what I say. You are my _servant_ now, Lightyear. If I command you to cringe, you do that. If I command you to kiss the soil, you do that. HAHAHAHAHAH! And no whining, or one cute kitty will go bye-bye!"

"Y---y--you are MAD! SICK AND MAD!" the Captain stuttered with wide-flown eyes. His whole being was reflecting the sudden, desperate terror. How could he had let his mind fly so calm momentarily? The stones were dropped back over him with an appalling force.

"Tut tut, Lightyear", Evil Buzz simpered, "One more time I hear you offending my glory, and it'll be that Tangean that will die. We don't exactly need her, do we?" he smoothed the viper staff's bar with ill affection, "We keep your chick alive until you have helped me back to my original majesty... I will become the Supreme High Commander of this galaxy because I cannot get back home..."

The sadistic psychopathy was starting to bulge out of his eyes. His irises were reduced to mere dots, and his mentally disordered smile was reaching his ears. "...and actually, why to go back home? I have nothing to do there any longer, I would have no challenges! But here, it's just a whole new game... hahahaha... and, yes... perhaps I was _meant_ to end up over here! Perhaps it all has a grand, superior meaning! Hahahahaha! I am a _Lightyear_, am I not? Perhaps I was meant to arrive here to heal the corrupted and devolved blood of the Lightyears, and upraise again their ancient evil grandeur from the ashes! HAHAHAHA! Yes, it must be so! I shall become the new heir of Nex Crucio! I shall be the dark light that will burn this pathetic galaxy and make it cringe under my feet! I shall resurrect the Dark Lightyear inheritance!"

The Captain shuddered in the furthest corner of his cell, staring at the bewitched lunacy of the Shadow. That horrible uproar had not a single ray of sanity in it; it was plain megalomaniac phrenopathy. The tales of his family's past were creeping back into his awareness, sending cold wriggles down his spine. Evil Buzz laughed his unceasing cackle, and for some reason the outer wall had begun sliding back over the bars.

"See you later, Lightyear! HAHAHAHAHAH! And remember your place, you unworthy minion!" The horselaugh's clatter was turning distant. And finally, the wall banged seamlessly back into its slot.

Buzz collapsed to sit onto the floor. He wanted to scream, just scream with his whole force. The reality was revealing its most poisonous fangs, ready to bite with the fatal venom. Or could the reality be so cruel? Was this all just a part of some continuous, infernal nightmare?

His regard swirled across the cell. Every time it fell onto the skeleton that was sitting against the nearby wall. Whatever he did, always his eyes ended up onto the decayed features of Jardaz Lightyear. The empty scull was _staring_ at him, from every single direction it looked like that. As if the dead man had been mocking his mental limbo, as if it had cackled Evil Buzz' laugher with that crooked, hanging jawbone.

The room was beginning to fly in psychedelic circles in his vision. The pain of the shots had come back. Green flames were grilling his muscles, as he crumpled onto the dusty floor and fell into a fatigued hallucination. He could stand no more. The sleep took him into its hard bony grasp. Jardaz' dead face lingered in front of him...

_Zurg was lying on the floor, raising a clawed hand towards him, pleading for forgiveness... He had his loose helmet in his lap... A woman, a beautiful young woman was doing a fidgeting movement. It kept curling a lock around her finger and wiped it behind her ear... then, a faint sound of some silent melody hung in the air._

_The woman was not doing the fluttered gesture any longer... she was smiling, she was humming a melody. Her lips were slowly moving, and a calm song was floating around. Her blue eyes had a modest, placid look in them... Next, the image was jerked away. It turned to grim blackness... someone was screaming... a woman was screaming..._

_It screamed with the same voice that had sung the lullaby..._

_It pleaded for mercy... desperately pleaded for mercy in front of someone...pleaded to spare her life..._

Buzz had sunk back into the deepest abysses of his subliminal mementos. The forgotten monsters were released by the shock. Roaring they wormed inside the darkest nightmare he had ever seen.    

**...to be continued...**


	16. Zurg's craze

**--Capital Planet--**

The increased wind blew the snow in miniature twisters around the streets. It was not yet even the earliest dawn; the sun still played hide-and-seek with the darkness. While the neighborhood snored, Zurg's house had experienced an early awakening.

It had been impossible for the nightmare-cursed Emperor to get sleep any longer. Moreover, he lay on his back on a sinking purple sofa and kept a bag of ice over his throbbing forehead. The headache lingered in his frontal lobe like a cranky flea in a mongrel's fur. Mariañ sat worried in the other end of the couch, ruffling his hair every once in a while, and trilling something jittery.

"Oh but Googly Bear, they were a whole new set of pajamas! And the nights are cold still! How is my Zurgypoo going to stay warm now?"

"Gruhh... I do not know, Smoopsiepoo. It is a pity to lose something so glorious, oh the woe..." He tried to rise an inch up, but her hand softly kept his head down.

"Tut tut, you should rest, Purrypoo Iddikens. You were so exhausted after the nightmare!" 

Zora's face was suddenly painted with an ill shade of tension. His bushy brows crumpled, and his voice fell an octave.

"I do not think it was just a nightmare."

"W-what do you mean, Flopsy-Mopsy?"

"I wish I would know myself..." he sighed, "My son was in it, captured somewhere. It was this stone corridor... there was something else too... a man in robes... somehow so familiar, as if I had met him before... a great shadow of evilness was hovering above him..."

"Y-you were yelling all these scary things!" the girl puled as if she had been addressing a ten-year-old, and ruffled some more of his overgrown locks.

"I know... I know. I remember every bit of the dream. It does not go away. It stays there, looming. And this pathetic headache! Quasars! Is this not just the bee in the summer meadow?" This time he rose rather hotly up, whereas Mariañ was left to shudder petrified in her corner of the sofa. She believed that her whatever-lame-pet-name-this-time Emperor was taking too strong movements regarding his 'sickness'.

"But Purpleteddy, you should..."

"Indeed. But I deem I must do something for this. As odd as it sounds, I have the worst feeling that something has happened to my son. I cannot lose him again. I once did..." Zurg hushed the sentence's end, swallowing the ill sentiment that always rose upwards his gullet while remembering the false paths of the past. Holding his pounding forehead, he clicked his fingers. "Grub! I need some strong coffee and painkillers. And you shall also put the breakfast ready. Your Master is leaving early this morning!"

"Yes, yes, yes, my not-anymore-evil-but-nowadays-very-kind-and-caring Emperor!" a little lackey scampered from the corner and whizzed immediately away to complete the task. And although the young surgeon kept mewling and disagreeing worried, Zurg had made up his mind. Once the headache would have settled down a bit, he would go and search for help.

Hence, two hours later a tall figure emerged from the mini-empire's yard. It directed its course towards Booster Munchapper's apartment a few miles away.

Z. Z. Lightyear needed aid and badly, as confusing as everything appeared in the horizon. He had to find out what was going on on Morph. Whether his son was still somewhere... or not. Whether his eerie reverie had been just a dream... _or more_.

*******

The mirror reflected the slumberous face of a red reptilian. His eyelids were flopping constantly down, and anteriorly the pupils was a white fog. Booster resembled merely a zombie sleepwalker this morning. Also his somnus had been inferior last night; but not because of odd apocalyptic hallucinations about dark lords and their everlasting cliché-like obsession to conquer the galaxy. No, he had simply come tremendously late back home the previous day, and thus thudded into the bed during the small hours. And now a new day rose and shone, the alarm clock contrived cheerily chirping about it before the weakest daybreak. However, due to its irksome essence, a large red fist had smacked it to mere springs and screws, after it had beeped so joyfully a few minutes.

But the Jo-Adian had been obedient for his schedule and clambered up -as toilsome as it had been. Now he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, or rather to say was accidentally emptying the insides of a shower gel bottle onto the toothbrush. He was too tired to notice the mistake, until he held an empty bottle in his hand and his mouth was bubbling with pink rose-smelling goo. Luckily Booster did not need to shave his bald cheeks. In this state, he would have probably thought the shaver to be his breakfast and munched it with good appetite.

A while later, he succeeded to get rid of the bad-tasting soap that was invading his mouth. He startled to hear the front door's buzzer whine like an angry, badly played bagpipe. At this point, he was so much awake that did not mix the ear-splitting moaning with the broken alarm clock's twirp. He slouched to the doorway dragging his bathrobes, and lazily wrenched the gateway open.

If he had owned hackles, they would have escaped up with the sudden fright he experienced. Against the streetlight and the innocent whiteness of the snow was delineated a tall, menacing-looking figure. Its long black cape was rippling in the gusty wind, and the silver horns of its headpiece were glimmering ominously.

"ZUR---GGG--- I-I m-mean S-sir Lightyear!" he gasped, terror warping his face. The threatening form had stepped into the shaft of light that was coming from Booster's hall.

In all his solemn might, Zora Lightyear managed to look exclusively ridiculous. Majority of his attire did look imposing -like the finely tailored full-purple winter suit under the black traveling cloak which had a red velvet lining- but somehow the high-standing starched collars and his peculiar self-knitted cap were quarreling badly with the impression. Especially the cap. The imperial passion to horns did not cease. These ones were crocheted from metal-shiny string and stuffed hard with wad, so that they were protruding from the cap's top just like the infamous horns of his old Zurgatronic helmet. To make the headwear even more ludicrous, it had the classic 'Z' stamped on it, just above the little visor. From under it, the old man was scowling with an austere pout.

The red fat reptilian was however eyeing especially at the cap with the utmost fright, as if it had been the most terrifying sight of the Gamma Quadrant. His chin stuttering, Munchapper asked diffidently what brought Mr. Lightyear Senior at his door at this time of the day.

"Oh, oh, and come in, Sir!" he piped while noticing how the blizzard gradually was turning His Majesty into Jack Frost.

Ten minutes later Zoxedaszeĉ was sitting in Booster's living-room, a teacup the size of a bucket in front of him. Across the table, the confused Jo-Adian was listening to his speech that consisted of grunt series and frowns. Mainly his questions were directed to inquire what Commander Nebula had ordered the remains of Team Nova to do today. Zurg seemed gloomier and more beetle-browed than usually, as if he had been deeply worried about something. This misgiving virus of course infected the Jo-Adian, who was already known as a nervous wreck. Thus Booster was twisting his hands franticly and spilling his morning tea onto the floor. Yet, one detail lowered his apprehension rate at least a few percent. The odd headpiece was removed and jutted in the rat rack; it was not initially causing fright to the poor space ranger.

 "Umm well..." he stuttered to answer the Emperor's queries, "Sir Commander asked us to continue to search for Captain Nova. I think we're going back to Morph today. We went through half of Kaon yesterday and umm well... I guess we're going through the second half today."

"No. There shall be a schedule change. If we wish to find that Tangean, we ought to find out where my son is", the old man muttered. "As pathetic as it sounds, I need you two insufferably incompetent pinheads to help me. We shall go and find Buzz."

Booster, who was so used to Zurg's slanders, did not quite even notice what new pleasant nicknames he and XR had just received. "But... isn't Buzz at home? Or I mean at work?"

"No, he is not."

"But how can you say so? We saw him on Friday and I think Commander Nebula would know if..." But he never finished his sentence. Merely he sprung up screaming with dread, as Zurg's fist hit the rickety living-room table in frenzy and smashed it broken.

_"QUASARS! SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED TO MY SON! WHY NONE OF YOU IGNORANT SPARROW-BRAINED POOS GET IT?_ That peg-legged old coot keeps me as some kind of a senile goof-off who does not understand the difference between a light bulb and a troll doll! If I say that something has happened to my son, then IT HAS HAPPENED, by jumping Bunzelbees! I sense it! The dark side ruined me; it forces me to sense every single shift in its balance!" he blustered in a horrible hollow voice. If this tantrum had not awakened the neighborhood, not even the gentle silent boom of an exploding a-bomb would have.

"Ohh this just cans my pickles!" His huff calmed down a tad, and he was left to measure the wrecked table with a glare. "Hrrhmhyy. I must stop doing that. Otherwise it shall become a habit. How much do I owe from the broken table and two tea cups?"

Booster, who wobbled in the farthest corner of the room, did not catch even a half of what Zora was ranting. Only the thing that Buzz could be in probable danger and that this wacko royal knew it somehow. Nonetheless, nervously he threw in his tiny counterargument.

"Uh... b-but shouldn't we m-make sure at f-first that B-Buzz hasn't g-gone to work? And s-shouldn't we still a-ask the Commander what we're going to do? I mean, it's against the space ranger oath to disagree your Commanding Officer's orders! W-we could get punishment, or worse!"

Zurg narrowed his eyes and placed an unnaturally long, thin finger on his lower lip. Brooding, he admitted that that big blob had some point in his lisping. He himself was a criminal on parole; he could get mightily in trouble for forcing space rangers to work against their rules. Buzz had of course ditched guidelines every five minutes during his captain career, but that was a completely different story.

"Very well then. Quasars, this just boils the turnip, does it not? In any case, we shall fly to Star Command immediately. We would have needed to collect your tin can friend from there anyway. And I obviously need to say a few straight words to that old hoary cuckoo clock. Hmm, on the other hand, I must admit that it is rare that he has a Z in his name, even as the first initial... but shall that make him any better than the other pathetic mortals...? Hymm..." Brows drawn together, he stopped the inane rambling, and put his hand into his breast pocket to pick up his wallet. "Now, how much do I owe? Uni-bucks or Zurgean Z-Galleons... ah yes... My mistake. Never mind, my Empire has fallen, that currency would be useless... uni-bucks then..."

**--Star Command HQ--**

In Commander Nebula's office, the prospects for another Zurg-conducted mission were not that bright. Zeb merely had rolled his eyes at the paddy train he had performed in the room. In the background, Booster and XR stood leaning against the wall, shrugging and semi-interested waiting for what would follow.

It was just the same bluster spray as last week. This time, the Emperor just seemed to be even more stubborn to fume about some odd happenings he though he sensed. The male had not bothered to explain a diphthong about the nocturnal ghost that had driven him to visit the Jo-Adian's hut. His bee in the bonnet was just to insist that Buzz was in trouble, and that he needed someone to help him with the vague dilemma. He would have turned to Warp ages ago, but nobody had the slightest idea where the Darkmatters had evaporated. Alone, the ex-sinister self-proclaimed ruler of the universe was rather defenseless. Yes, he had overly-beefed biceps and vigor, but was not allowed to carry even the most minuscule weapon, in addition that the Big Brother Lawguardian sniffed his every footprint.

The trouble hill did not shallow an inch by the fact that Zeb had actually made a vidphone call to the Space Ranger Recruit office where Buzz worked. Morph announced that Buzz Lightyear had called and asked for sick-leave this morning. Of course a staff medical officer should have certified the nature of the illness, but the Captain was so trusted in their quarters that nobody even bothered to doubt his word. And the alien on the other side of Nebula's comlink assured that Buzz needed his resting days; he had looked so pallid and sunken-eyed in the vidscreen. Obviously some quick-hitting flu, the office worker had deliberated.

So, seemingly Buzz had an alibi. But uncanny was, that Zora did not believe a mere atom of this sick-leave song. It just seemed to increase his jumpiness.

"Quasars! How many times do I have to repeat to you lamebrained rutabagas that a shadowy haze is draping our future? An Indistinct Evil is rising in the horizon, and somehow my son is a part of the crochet work of this dark creature that also shall be maliciously purple and merciless! I do not know how, I do not know why, it is only this alarm ringing in my superiorly divine brains!" Zora strolled past the Desk, which was whimpering with fright. The poor piece of furniture still recalled how that monstrosity had hit it in two halves. "You used to trust my son's so-called 'ranger instinct', which always aided him to foil my naughtily z-rich plans. So if _I_ am having similar premonitions with something you feeble lack-wits shall not even comprehend, why is it any different? Snarrrl! Grrrfffhhht!" 

Commander Nebula frowned at the Emperor. "Hmfpf. Blast, look, I think you should go home. Maybe _you_ should take a sick-leave. Sweet mother of Venus, this starts getting far too impossible. We just _heard_ _from Morph_ that Buzz is fine, safe, and sound. Well, not fine and sound, but safe anyway. Our concern is to find out what has happened to Ranger Nova since she hasn't presented herself here even today. We..."

"My son is not SAFE! I do not even think it _was_ Buzz who did that pathetic blasted call! It was... hymm... someone else. Some dimwit decoy perhaps. Sodden space dust, you should know my son! He would go to work even in fever. If you inferior puny skeptical fluffy bunnies wish to have an example of a sick-day faker, call Darkmatter! And he is not my son!"

Without doubt, this notion raised up some weird impressions. But XR broke the silence with a whisk of hand.

"I'd fake sick days too if I had one of those exotic Kalevan babes at home. I think I'd fake sick days eight days a week! Our ex-captain hasn't been the same once the cross-eyed cupids shot him with their crooked arrows."

"Even you tiny tinplate toy are a part of this white-green conspiracy against me! Huh? HUH? _HUH!_ I shall say it one more time for you wannabe-deaf whimpering pigeon plushies that _YOKA-HANEN HAS BEEN NAPPED... _or something. Hyrm. Anyway, she is NOT there! And neither is Buzz!"

"Blast, get a grip of yourself!" Zeb was beginning to lose even the remains of his nerves, "We never got assured of that. Why wouldn't you take a nice holiday in Rhizome, they got some relaxing spas for rampant old bucketheads like you..." 

But Zurg never heard the end of the sentence under his sudden emotional rage. Did that leg-lacking stump think he was some floppy old pumpkin who had place for nothing any more? He could not see that Zeb was referring to his habits to cause trouble and act utterly stupidly in certain situations. Just like back in the times of the Gate case: After the Portal to the adverse galaxy had been shut, and the enemy ships had evaporated during the dimension opener's self-destruct mechanism, that royal had acted up at Star Command. A pack of villains had still kept the Headquarters in their jelly clutches, and he with Team Lightyear had infiltrated the Base in order to free it. What a mess it had been... the goofy male had run wild around his full Zurg costume on, including the helmet, which he had snatched with from Mariañ's office. The lobelias had been dumped away, and the Emperor had announced that if he kept it on, nobody would recognize his face. Nonetheless, after the hullabaloo was over, Capital Planet's gutter press blazed in their tabloids that '_Zurg had been seen alive at Star Command Headquarters, fighting side by side with Buzz Lightyear_'. Luckily nobody had really believed those headlines, and Zeb's grumpy explainings about seeing swamp gas and weather balloons had been far more plausible.

But still.

Yet, Zurg was initially gathering a raven thundercloud above his head. Nobody would doubt his strength! His dark eyes sparked with fury, and a horrible harangue escaped from his wide-open, grimacing mouth. "_WHAT?_ Are you pathetic pitiful snipe claiming that I have no strength any more? _WHAT?_ I am the glorious, all-powerful Emperor Lightyear and _I am in the powers of my youth_! Graaarrrrrgggghhhhhh!" His both fists in the air, he bellowed to the far shorter man, who tried protecting himself from Zurg's wild-flying spit. But this was not enough. Zora went on ripping forcibly his other sleeve up so that the canvas got torn and the cuff links bounced off, flying next across the room. He stuck his bare arm in front of Nebula's nose, tapping his steel-hard huge bicep with a tip of long finger, hissing, "I can lift huge rocks with my plain hands, twist thick metal bars into rosettes, and bake the most delicious muffins of the Quadrant! Huh? Huh! I am the master of the universe! Do you wish to see how I still have the knack of the Althuzian Death Grip? I learned it perfectly in my Dark Padawan Training thirty years ago! I was the youngest in centuries in the whole Zeta Quadrant to study such advanced Dark Arts!" And as if this shower of self-praises had not been enough, the nutcase began to strike odd karate poses and utter ominous karate sounds in the middle floor.

Commander Nebula buried his head in his hands, trying not to see the whole loony theatre. It was like talking to a brick wall; Z. Z. Lightyear became ever crazier. Buzz was like a serene sheep beside his father, if the obstinacy rates were compared. Just hopeless. Was Zeb's only option to give up, _again_? And where were the wormholes when one was needed? His cheeks were becoming redder and redder with sheer embarrassment, as Zora did not show even minor signs of quitting the martial arts exhibition. He wanted so much to put an end to this more than imbecile insanity.

But obviously Booster and XR were thinking of the same.  

"Alright, alright, A-Okay, how about this way, Pater? We do this one more time what the Genghis Khan wishes. Now, peace, flowers, chocolate cakes, and no more fighting! Thank you." The android had come in the middle, and stretched out his metallic legs so that his head was on Zora's eyelevel. The Commander behind the robot wiped his forehead, sighing hard with frustration. The Emperor stopped the karate movements, crossed his arms over his chest, and left an angry snort through his nostrils. If he had been a dragon, little flames could have been seen coming out.

"Sweet mother of Venus, anything! Just get that pigheaded showoff out of my office! And you better to be _right_ with your dark lord alarm! And you", Zeb pointed at the mecha, "How many times do I have to tell you _not to call me your father!_"

"Sure thing, Dad!" XR saluted and grabbed the old royal by his arm, "Now you got your mission again. Let's go before we know all these funky Jackie Chan tricks by heart."

**--Kaon--**

Fifteen minutes had passed since Zurg had for the first time ringed Buzz' doorbell. The house was completely abandoned-looking. Curtains were drawn over every single window, and the morning post was still stuffed in the mailbox. Booster and XR stood under a cherry tree eyeing at one another in perfect amazement. Had that grand vizier of a batty bug paradise actually been right? As ridiculous as it sounded like, the piece of deviant art seemed to have its point. If Buzz really was sick, he would most likely be at home and open up. Even if the Captain had snoozed, he would have perked awake in a few seconds due to Zora's yell-and-bang door-knocking style. Also, there was no sign of Yoka-hanen anywhere. Should not at least she be perching somewhere nearby, doing chores for her bed-tied mate?

"We shall get in. XR! Pick the lock!" the purple-worshipper snarled.

"B-but Sir, we can't just _break into_ Buzz' house!" Munchapper protested horrified.

"I am waiting for the sniveling minions to give better ideas of how to get in", Zurg folded his arms across his chest. A great load of clothing had vanished from over him; otherwise in this summer heat he would have been roasted. Also the terrifying headpiece had been left inside Forty-Two. Thus Booster dared to be braver with his speech; the ominously uncanny ex-darksider looked a bit less ominously uncanny.

"Well, what if we take the classic point of view and check the backdoor?" the android suggested.

This actually indicated to be a good means. Odd as it was, the target of speech was unlocked and opened feather-lightly.

Inside reigned another panorama. Clearly nobody was at home, it was futile to holler any names. The chambers were unlit, the air felt stuffy. Every item stagnated in the same places as last Friday; even the same unwashed dishes were growing greenish mildew in the kitchen. The remnants of a half-drunk coffee stood cold on the dining table. Somehow, the atmosphere appeared as if someone had left the house in a great haste.

A cold feeling filled Booster, a slight stutter found its way into XR's accent.

_Was Zurg really right...?_ If so, what on Saturn had happened?

"Sensors indicate: very spooky", the robot nodded at himself while caterpillaring around the first-floor rooms. Munchapper stood rather shiftless in one nook, whereas the Emperor was sniffing every wastebasket and dust particle. Clearly he was looking for something but surprisingly now kept his cake hole shut.

Actually, a great stoneload of worries had been suddenly piled inside his chest. He had hoped to be wrong with his ill-omened sensations... but apparently the joy and laughter were meant to die. This was the first time he had gotten in to his son's house after the odd news about Yoka.

And it was just as he had feared. No woman had resided in this household in ages. And now even his only son seemed to have experienced the same fate? On the top of that, Ranger Mira Nova glowed with her absence.

"You two lackeys! Look around and do not just loiter there when the eternal darkness is falling above the universe! You shall look for _anything _peculiar. I will go upstairs."

Rather slothful the duo remained to stroll in circles around the living-room.

"What do you think could have happened to our ex-cap? My sensors indicate: spookier than spooky", the mecha mused.

"Uh well I don't know. I hope he's alright, wherever he is!" 

Suddenly there was a creak in the shadows. 

Something was moving in the kitchen. Something other than Emperor Zurg.

**...to be continued...__**


	17. Mira's feeble ray of hope

Little, ominous creaks echoed from the kitchen's open doorway. Booster and XR stood petrified in the hall, throwing quick glances at one other.

"Y-y-you c-c-c-check out w-w-hat there is! I---I'll be your backup!" the sturdy Jo-Adian whimpered and cowering tried to appear as minuscule as possible. In that task, he succeeded as well as a blue whale sitting in birdbath.

"Why me? Why do I always have to be the benevolent bait, the daring decoy, the brave pioneer?" the robot protested, "Why do I have to become the juicy snack for some omnivorous beast? Where did your Lightyear-like braveness fade? You could probably smash the menace just by sitting on it."

"Erm..."

"Alright, alright. It's again XR to the rescue. The valiant knight in his shining armor, riding with a non-existent steed to save the non-existent princesses from non-existent fierce dragons!" And thus, the android carefully rolled towards the kitchen, Booster looking at the shadowy opening with a thumb in his mouth.

The robot almost collided with the noise source. A white, cylinder-shaped object was teetering around the floor. It was the household's walking trash compacter. It had obviously woken up because of all the fuss around, and was ready to offer its kind services, in case anyone would need to get rid of some delicious garbage.

But as it saw XR, it went into utter hysterics. It started beeping and purring manically, and nearly one could see pink hearts flashing and sparkling above its top lid. It visibly thought the android ranger to be the most handsome thing it ever had met. It zoomed right at the baffled mecha, and began nuzzling his side, beeping and tweeting almost in a flirtatious way. Evidently Zarah had designed it as a female bot; also regarding the facts that it was so very ridiculously cute and smooth-lined. 

"Wh-what the craters...?" XR yelped, trying to detach himself from the idiotic litterbin who was attempting with all its might to cuddle up to under his arm.

"Beep! Beep! Bop! Chirp!" the nutty bot trilled.

"Shoo! Go away! I don't need trash compacting! I just went through the annual LGM service and got top marks! Shoo!" He was less enthusiastic about the affection attack. He had an eye for pretty ladies, but this individual was just too artificial. Escaping to the living room did not however help even a per mille. The kookie litterbox whizzed on his heels and began chasing him around the table.

"Booster, help! Can't you see, there's a ranger in danger! Do something! Why don't _you _try charming it instead?" XR whined.

Nonetheless, the red reptilian was far much more interested in something more crucial. Had not Zurg given instructions to sniff anything that was uncommon? It did feel tremendously awkward for Munchapper to rummage his ex-commanding officer's house like some wretched weasel on his nightly gig filching small valuables. So, with trembling hands he had started opening the drawers of a nearby-stagnating dresser. Now he scratched his bald muddled. The top drawer was locked, and the nervous ranger was not sure whether it would be proper to open it furtively or not. The hubbub of one lovesick trash compacter and one nauseated cyborg continued in the background.

Just at the moment, large boots stomped down the stairs. Zora's deeply furrowed brow and cantankerous expression did not sing jovial chants. Moreover, he was fingering his chin and struggling with a cloud of poltergeistic thoughts. The half-ready abstraction tapestry was nonetheless dissected to shreds as he flitted in the middle of the tragic love drama spinning around the living-room table.

"What is this pathetic rickety?" the oldster bellowed, and made the carousel stop dead. "I ask you two blubbering trifling lackeys to aid My Imperial Majesty, and what do I get? An identical copy of the staff I had on Planet Z! No wonder nothing worked and my friskily plum-odoured Empire was meant to fall into the lowest and blackest bowels of oblivion!"

"Now it isn't my fault this loony trash compacter is smitten with me!" XR beefed, "I know I'm a guy with the right gear and magnetism, but..."

"What is that pitiful puny vacuum jug?" the Emperor shot a smoldering glare at the delirious wastebasket, "And it's WHITE! How many times do I have to declare that I HATE white! Of course my nitwit son has decorated EVERYTHING in his house with that infernally ugly shade! Together with the green stripes of Erebus! Oh I wish I could close my eyes in front of all this ill-favored color quarrel! Now go away, you ignorant dense jar! _GRRWROARH_!" A single hollow growl fled his angered maw. The bot literally blasted in the air for fright, turned about on its wheels and zapped back to the kitchen whimpering deplorably. It retreated under the table, into the farthest shadows, and wept alone its lovelorn.

"Well, did you lack-wits find anything?" Zurg inquired.

"Just a lot of nothing. And one gaga garbage can added to that. So it still makes nothing."

"Hymph. Just as I assumed. Perhaps the lamebrained brain-bots in my Palace _did_ after all do better work. Ahh well, I have always known that Star Command decreases your IQ level exponentially. My son could have become a _celebrated galactic hero_ if he had astutely chosen a career in some other place. And something that would have been less white and green..." Absent-mindedly blabbering, the old royal promenaded around the room. By the age, the loogin gabble just seemed to amplify. Behind him, Booster kept shyly pointing at the dresser and shifting his legs as if he had needed a potty break.

A long, thin index on the place of his cleft, Zurg just went on piffling as if he had had a great deal of loose screws under his cranium, "...is it actually so, that these two dismal colors _do_ cause early senility and even brainwash you to think they are actually the most grandiloquent colors of the universe? They must be the root of evil! Hmmhyy... ghommh..." He halted his roaming steps in front of the oil painting hanging on the wall. Munchapper almost danced on his spot now, waving ferociously to get attention. XR rolled his eyes in some niche, rather frustrated about Zurg's unceasing slanders.     

"Ahh, the mighty me!" the royal smacked his lips as he laid his gaze upwards and encountered his own phiz simpering at him. "Hrrhm. Now as I evaluate this piece of glorious art afterwards, I must say that the purple should have been seasoned with just a bit naughtier touch of crowberry. It is itty bitty too much on the lingonberry side. But still, ahh, so nefariously delicious!"

"Uhh, Sir Lightyear...?" the Jo-Adian puled.

"Now what? I wish to admire myself in peace!"

"Erm... I... well, Sir, I'd like to report t-that I found a locked drawer over here!"

"A locked drawer, that is fascinating..." Zurg muttered, holding now a pocket mirror in his hand. He smugly sleeked his amazingly thick hair while evaluating the coiffure he had in the portrait. "Perhaps I ought to order another painting from the artist. And this time with the right flavor of heinous bilberry in it... now Buzzy Boy could put it beside this one. He could have two pictures of the majestic m--" Abruptly the dotty Narcissus experienced an awakening. Somehow his synapses shifted from the self-admiring mode to observe the surroundings. And also recalled that _why_ he was here initially. "Ah, what? A locked drawer? Where?"

"Right here, Sir!" the overweight dinosaur-esque minion pointed at the dresser. "You asked me to look for odd things and well, _Buzz would say_ that a locked drawer is odd!"

"Hahaa! A locked drawer! How wickedly perverted!" the Emperor rubbed his hands together in sudden enthusiasm, "Odd, indeed! I could not find almost anything upstairs. Only that my son has apparently gone somewhere with his space ranger suit on, since it was not in the closet where he keeps it. Hmm now, let us see this one..."

"But I didn't find a key..."

"Key? What kind of pathetic waxwing needs _keys_? You could have opened this for me, so that we would have saved valuable time." Zora took a good grip of the drawer's handle, and with one snatch, ripped it open. The broken lock pieces bounced in the air and flied in perfectly arched trajectories across the room, right according to the fashion of the past few days.

It did not take planet-sized brains to perceive that something _indeed_ was strange with this drawer. 

On the top of miscellaneous thingamabobs, there lolled a set of half-crumpled parchment pieces: the threat letters the Shadow had written. Last Friday, in his cacophonic haste, Buzz had thrown most of the evilly cackling notes there. And later on added there even the ones which were gloating about Mira's snaring.

Yet, at the moment, Zurg and his Imperial Stormtroopers had no clue what these brownish cardboard-looking rags presented. The old male picked one of them between his unnaturally long, bony fingers, and pouted. The shred had an odd, moldy reek in it, as if it had resided in some clammy crypt for ages.

"What in the name of unholy Zarquon...?" was his thunderstruck gasp after he had unfolded it and recited the scribbling. Both Booster and XR gawped at the parchment rag with horror-struck grimaces. 

-----------------

The air felt frowzier than ever in Mira's nostrils. She coughed almost ceaselessly; the smell of mildew and rot were prickling in her throat. Her hand trailed across a roughly cut stonewall to get some support. The Princess was still crumpling on the floor, being thoroughly exhausted after a nearly nonstop ghosting. Oh, what she would have given for an inhale of fresh air! She had never believed being allergic to anything. But during these last few days, her lungs had involuntarily gotten filled with mucus, and she kept frequently coughing out icky clods of tacky whitish slime. It had to be this nearly suffocating air; some kind of fungus had triggered these asthmatic symptoms. She would have been saved from the quandary if her helmet had agreed to work. Yet, something was clicking with her almost fresh-from-oven captain suit. Perhaps the Shadow's plasma-laser blast had defected the bubble helmet's open-close mechanism. In any case, she could not draw it over her head to give shield from these carcinogenic gasses. 

This nook was nonetheless not as repugnant as what had been beyond it. But the sudden absence of the blue light was in a way menacing. Mira did not yet comprehend what had happened. She had arduously ghosted through something that had required the last fragments of her force and concentration. Something that had pushed her violently back, but had had tiny holes of yielding matter here and there. Only that it had taken a mere eternity to swim around the element and wriggle in the pliable bubbles. After Nova had wormed through the obstacle and drawn even her toes out of it, she had been starkly worn out. Hacking painfully mucus out of her lungs, her respiration wheezing, she had slumped down onto the floor.

The initial fatigue faded gradually as the slug-tardy minutes crept on. Mira sat up in an uncannily twisted pose, hugging her upper body. It still felt as if a thousand hot-white daggers were gushing her sides all at the same time. Her drowsy gaze divagated across the dark, endless stone. The visibility was poorer than ever. If Nova had not had her partly phosphorescent space suit, she would have bathed in mere void. Now the dim green glow of her collars and gauntlet straps were giving at least meager lumen into the desolated, sepulchral crypt.

Buzz Lightyear's sick, warped grimace lingered in front of her eyes. This ghoul had day by day transformed more and more devilish, had become worse than Zurg ever in his sinister, infuriated years. As Mira had lolled in her cell, this demonic visage had every now and then appeared in the wall. His only purpose seemed to be to insult and smash down the last shreds of her determination, in order to make her weak, cringing, something even more worthless than a decaying rat.

How could she have been so blue-eyed? Not seen the prowling beast inside the lamb? Buzz was rampant crazy, and becoming a threat for everyone. Mira had no assertive idea if Yoka-hanen was deceased or not. However, Lightyear's sneer was intermittently jesting about her, laughing out fragments of knowledge that she still might be alive in this weird Abaddon.

And still she did not recognize who _really _was behind the mask of the Shadow...

Two days the Princess had lain in comatose disbelief, and almost locked her senses. Her soul and mind were fighting against themselves, and at the same time pleading for help in order to understand. And, a third screech howled a dysfunctional canon with the whole cranial pandemonium. Her determination, which waged a desperate war against the bruising offences.

_There had to be a way out of this possessed underworld. How jaded she ever was, she would have to find a getaway...even if she needed to ghost herself dead. For the sake of everything, anything... find someone to whom to tell, and get that sick maniac in jail..._

Slowly the beaten awareness had steeled itself. It had started bringing Mira out of the insensible shock. She had begun observing more keenly on the uncanny surroundings. There were these endless chambers; they had to have a connection with the reality. Although in this blue ether, everything was hovering in a nightmare-like fantasy. Amazing was, that a part of her subconscious kept claiming she was indeed drifting in a dream...

But no, this _was_ the reality. Not a digital illusion, not a disturbing hallucination.

And if the reality was _this, _why should she just accept it, relinquishing? Why not to fight against it? Buzz Lightyear had promised to kill her. So what was there to lose, if she would mutiny?

The inspection had gone on in silence, and she had scribbled more mind-memos. Some kind of monitoring system was linking the cubicles also together. Till this day, Mira had no hint of how she had been originally slung inside this creepiness. The rooms appeared seamless with no visible doors or windows... and actually, the Princess had no idea which cabin had even been her primary starting dot. The incoherent ghostings had made her lose the homing instinct. Yet, somehow Buzz always knew her location. Was he constantly surveying her through some sort of spy camera? The nutrition, which consisted of plastic water bottles and foil-wrapped junk food, were thrown inside the random cells through little holes that opened up in the ceiling. The ill man did not explain why he kept her still alive. 

_But...Never give up, never surrender._

*****

All in all, the Shadow's plan seemed to have one major defection. And that was the plan _itself_: there was no unfailing scheme, all his checkmates this far had merely been random luck and whims. Although it had seemed like a victory, Mira's napping had perhaps been his worst mistake. Evil Buzz Lightyear's problem was that he was relying too much on his own invincibility and to this old fortress. The Nex Crucio members had once gilded it with astounding technology: radar blockers, radio frequency distorters, Tefloyd-7-coated cell compartments, proton blaster -resistant cover shields and so on. Perhaps when Jardaz and Zoxewa Lightyear had sat here on their thrones, leading the whole satanic organization, everything had had the sugar-sweet chimera of triumph.

And so faultlessly the Nex Crucio toys had sparkled in the Shadow's eyes, as he was dropped here years ago. Everything glistened like in a dream, the age-old crystallic fusion generators produced electricity, the scanner-blocking shields hummed as if they had been activated just yesterday. And thus he grew to rely so much on his 'unblemished' castle in the sky, that he forgot the Time.

The time makes even the most delicate, dazzling butterfly to decay. Time cracks the mountains and perishes illusions. Time makes the great warrior wither and turn to dust. And till that day, the mankind had not built anything divine, everlasting. All the masterpieces were doomed to fall back in the mould.

Time, if anything, had befriended with Mira. Or at least involuntarily helped her, as its spell of erosion had slowly but surely bewitched the cult's ancient hideouts. Several hundred years ago, the manufacturing process of Tefloyd 7 had been slightly different as presently. Some of the adjuvants used in the corrosion-hindering layer and equally some alloy components made to bind the Löysälörtti-07 -named component (which was the whole core of the ghost-proof material) were not quite compatible. Later on, as it was noticed that the adjuvants kept slowly corroding one another, making the whole material a bit too unstable for long-term use, bioscientists and metallurgy researches developed better binding agents to replace the old ones. Currently a new generation of Tefloyd 7 was being drummed up in the LGM laboratories.

As Nova had risen again from the ashes of her momentarily deceased steadfastness, she had restarted the expeditions around the blue cubicles. She ghosted as much as her strength allowed, studying the place and attempting to make marks on anything that could lead out of there. In his stupidity, the Shadow had forgotten to whack broken her laser and wrist communicator, falsely assuming that they were no use in an entirely shielded prison. He had come to regret this later though, and hence terminated thoroughly the relevant components of Buzz' Pulsar 3000 Envirosuit. But the major problem of his idiocy was, that because of her being armed, he could not go to face her directly any longer. The blue one might strike back...

Evil Buzz cursed his lack of plan, but rather much ignored Mira's feeble attempts to get out. And soon he lost his interest to scowl at her aimless travel across the cell compartment. It had given a few good cackles, but too soon became a yawn-causing hobby. In addition, he had now a new game with the other Lightyear. The malevolent psychopath wanted to see _him_ squirm and grieve; Mira Nova was quite much just useless tedious dirt.

Her travels had been just starting, however. She had surveyed the food-delivering system, but spotted no loopholes there. She had gradually found the whole outer shell of the ghost-proof material which was covering a few floors of identical blue-lit cells. And those dull, mind-tormenting cubicles were not infinite, after all. Unreasonable yes, but not everlasting. The Princess had occasionally pondered what the purpose of all these rooms connected together so bizarrely was. Yet, since the answer did not float anywhere nearby, she was forced just to shrug at the enigma. Thus she had taken an aim to approach along the outmost walls and, even if it was an absolutely ill-fated attempt, she would try to find a weak spot. Or anything. Perhaps a place where her wrist communicator would regain its satellite connection.

So far, the play for life and death had teetered dangerously towards the fiendish part. But just half an hour ago, the Tangean had encountered something abnormal on her voyage through the chambers. She had entered a room before unseen. It was of course carrying the same monotonous features as the rest of its siblings, but was in a far more inferior state. White fungus dotted the walls all over, and its ceiling was oddly lopsided, as if it was snail-slowly collapsing. Crumpled pebbles littered the floor here and there, especially below the wall that was draped most in the whitish putrid mildew.

If the semi-poisonous blotches had not been there, the following wrestling match with the wall would have been less strenuous for Mira. The air was little by little beginning to sting in her throat when she felt about the ghost-proof mural with her palm. She was to give up the whole venture due to her increasing coughing, but suddenly discovered something atypical. Half of the masonry had been stiff as bedrock for the average Jack, but now, abruptly, her palm actually did sink slightly inside the material. It did not plunge there effortlessly, though. And it was only a small area somewhere in the left side of the wall that had the possible slight defect.

Yet, this was the very first beam of better prospects. What if... what if the Tangean could actually dive through it? With reinforced determination, could she...?

There was only one way to find out.

And so, half an hour later the Princess was progressively getting on her legs on the other side of the cumbersome fungus portal. Time had certainly blessed the wall with its rusting kiss. Humidity and water damage had perceptibly even speeded up the corrosion, so that the masonry had begun eating itself from the inside. 

She wiped her mouth to the back of her hand after another spit-and-harrump hack. The girl was lost in a narrow vaulted corridor of some sort. Both of its ends -as far as she could see- were swallowed by the sackcloth murkiness. Dewy moss grew in the holes of the uneven floor slabs. A wane smile found its way on her blanched face. She had gone through the wall. At least there was a pale strap of new hope illuminating this Hades.              

A while her frown wandered along the ceiling and walls. Was Buzz watching her? Did he know what she was doing? She dared to take a few nervous steps into an undetermined direction. The tunnel echoed hollowly and multiplied the clap of her gaits almost endlessly, as if the alley had been not less than a mile long.

Absently she flapped her wrist communicator open. Here would be a good spot to check again if there was any life in the connections.

A shrill squeal was to escape from her throat, but just in the last nanosecond, she slapped a hand over her overenthusiastic mouth. Mira stared at the communicator screen, which had a yellowish glow over it.

_'1 percent Local Area Connection established ...'_

_'Cannot connect to Satellite SC-4284-T3-K2: Connection aborted ...'_

_'Trying to re-connect ...'_

Her saucer-round-flown eyes read the software's report all over again. There was a net field, even though it was pathetically weak. She shifted her position in order to find a better nook where to receive the signal.

'_2 percent Local Area Connection established...'_

But that was all. Mira was balancing on her toes, reaching the ceiling. It was only this tiny speck where the existing network did not wither. The wristcom began lamenting if she stirred even an inch right or left.

"Oh craters... I can't contact Star Command with connections like this..." she cursed. "But I have to try sending SOS! There is some LAN network available, I have to try! If at least someone nearby would catch it!"

Carefully, still balancing on her one leg like a stuttering ballet dancer in her first-ever big stage performance, she craned her neck towards the communicator she kept high in the air. Almost whispering, so that the possible spybots nearby would not hear, she began repeating a distress message.     

**...to be continued...**


	18. Catching the message

A mental tumult resided initially in Buzz Lightyear's house. Zurg and his henchmen jutted at the dresser in uncannily lopsided poses, a miniature multitude of parchment rags taking their whole concentration. The Emperor had an ill shade of grayish green tinting his cheeks, while Booster and XR showed other remarkable signs of fear, puzzlement, mistrust, slight ague, and bile, all at the same time. The emotions quite much kept shifting every other second, so it was hard to say what was on the top.

Actually, the uncanny atmosphere hovering over the parchments had transformed a lot dodgier as the ever-first gags and gurgles of wonder were over. As the confusing messages about Mira and Yoka's napping were read, the enigma of the too-familiar handwriting whacked Team Z on their heads with a sledgehammer. And it definitely did not enhance the situation that XR provided a quick handwriting analysis to the notes.

The reaction was amazingly similar to Mira's one. Zurg buried his throbbing forehead into his hands, while Booster and the robot were quarreling whether Buzz had thoroughly gone bananas by writing himself gloating messages about something evil he had plotted. Yet, something at least became sure. Mira and Yoka were both in real danger, and apparently had been closed into some unknown devious hidey-hole.

"But... but... it can't _be_ Buzz' handwriting! Buzz is not crazy or evil or... That's someone else's writing! Someone who's imitating him!" Munchapper whimpered in his largely growing perplexity.

"I did the test twice. AND the results are 99,9999% firm that it is Buzz who has written these to himself", the mecha rolled his eyes, "And what do you mean he's _not_ crazy or evil? Prince Zenith, the heir of Zurggieland, the son of that other... politely said, _oddball_... How much proof do you need? Does he have to dance ballet in front of you with a proton blaster in his hands so you believe? I've always said there's something vile lurking hideously inside him. It's in the eyes, you see... the way he squints them. The way he hushes his tone. The way he glares from under his brows... well, and nowadays he has even that evil beard! Looks so Zurgish and... well, not only that but it's like walking beside his evil twin brother from the alternate universe! You know that... Evil Buzz Lightyear."

"I won't hear you! I won't hear you! Blaaablablaablabalaaaa!" his chum stuck his fingers into his ears and started to chant an odd burble to hide his fellow ranger's horrible accusations.

The Emperor slowly lifted his blanched visage up from the shelter of his chapped hands. The whole sphere of his thoughts had been dropped into some dreadful hole of perdition, where indescribable monsters fought and devoured one another. His expectations... the whole notorious feeling that had habited his inners for weeks, occasionally making his stomach lurch, his temples thump as if someone had played trombone in a very false note inside his skull... it was all becoming real once again. So ill with trepidation he had not been since the Gate case. And again, the horrid emotion engorged him from inside. What was going on? What the dratted izzard was going on? Buzz... what had he done to himself? Had the venomous inheritance of his blood always kept a strangling claw around his throat in secret, roasting his heart blacker and blacker behind the coulisses? Or _was_ it he behind this? And _what_ had after all happened? 

Last night, the old man had bounced up from his bed like a mad spring And why? Because of the nightmare. Yes. Otherwise he would not have spurted to bellow his lungs sore to Commander Nebula. It was the dream...

A glazed, distant glimmer remained in his half-paralyzed eyes. They just stared at the opposite wall, as if every inch of life had been drained from them. Buzz, he had writhed inside the nightmare. But... he had been the one crouching in the feet of that _other_ shadow, the one robed in black... Like a cringing servant he had been... _not_ the Master of Darkness. 

Someone else had started the whole dilemma, Buzz could have not written those letters, could he? Perhaps someone was impersonating him, like that squirt claiming the sick leave. Still, it made no much sense. Oh, if he only could perceive...

_And whose were the blue eyes he had seen in a manic glimpse of time? _Raven hair drooping over them... they were so unpleasantly familiar.

The images flied past his vision in a howling swarm of ghosts. The moldy old vaulted corridors... the roughly sculpted wallstones.... An obscure, hooded figure hovering inches above the floor, gliding onwards... its hoarse cackle rattling impishly in the musty, sepulchral crypt, like a demonic canto.

What was all this meaning, Zora inquired himself. After his redeem, he had feared the day when his son would finally select the path of sin, and stop the inner fighting against the Dark Side that had once gotten such a callous pinch of him. Buzz had sworn his heart had changed, but _had it_? Although Zurg had no clear perception of the ghastly inheritance he had transferred to his son via the Lightyear blood, he had tens of years presumed that something odd resided in the veins of his family. Mizar, he himself, his father... Zoxekov Lightyear's feathers were not white either, although he had not been quite as corrupted as his offspring. Nonetheless, pools of mud water decorated this deceased person's life road; countless misdeeds had been hidden behind the veil of false innocence. Hence the Emperor had his reasons almost never to utter a word about his father; it was another eyesore in his past. However, as the years had slithered onwards, his grim assumptions concerning his ancestry and estate had grown only more portentous. The Lightyear name was deceitful. Although the standard measure called light year was meant just to describe how many meters photons traveled during one regular year, the prefix _light_ in it was rather ironic.

_And why, why did his senses tell something far more ruthless was being bred in the bowels of Gehenna than just the simple disappearance of two or three people? _

It looked like a mere nothing, just a simple tiny crime in the vast Galactic distances... just trivial dust particles in the great wide universe. But chaos always chose to blossom from very delicate preconditions. Some insignificant shift in the state of entropy could smash planets, drain oceans, destroy a whole civilization... And this Zoxedaszeĉ somehow sensed, saw the more probable than probable raise of utter darkness behind the insignificance.

The background noise was gathering more decibels. A metallic tone with a sneer in it, was accusing something. Gradually the thunderclouds drifted away from Zurg's lobe as he woke up to conceive the reality.

"_It's like walking beside his evil twin brother from the alternate universe! You know that... Evil Buzz Lightyear._" His ears caught the last bits of XR's mocking. The gibbering went on, as if a pack of jackals had barked at one another while quarreling about who could eat the newly spotted carcass on savannah.

"I'm not listening! Laalalalaaa! Tattaraa! Uaa! Habahabahaa!"

"Alright, you may not listen _now._ But it will be too late when you find yourself in a huge cauldron, fire crackling under it, and someone beside you flipping through a cookbook trying to find the recipe of _boiled Jo-Adian in cayenne._ And then you can't say ol' XR didn't warn you!"

Some kind of pallid dawn was abruptly illuminating Zora's grave illusions. Some distant comprehension, as if he had been Einstein just figuring out that energy might equal the square of lightspeed multiplied with the particle's mass.

_But... it was generally impossible. That could not be..._ He slapped his almost nonexistent forehead with a large palm. Oh, if his ultra-intelligent brains had just worked a tad faster... did he have thick rust in the cranial cogwheels or what was the trouble, for he could not picture anything clearly? And that dissonant fanfare of those insufferable minions was just ripping the entities more apart.

Before nobody could put duct tape over Zora's mouth, he had inhaled his lungs full of air, and with all his might, bellowed a terrible boom out of his mouth. The gentle music of exploding a-bombs was truly just a placid lullaby compared to this thunder.

"_SHUT UP, YOU LOUSY SPONGEHEADS! CANNOT YOU SEE I AM THINKING OVER HERE?_"

A crystal vase in the near table shattered with a loud _crack_. A heavy cemetery-silence fell over the room. Only the chinking of the numerous windows and glass items in the house played their ominous symphony, abating slowly to make the reticence perfect.

"W-We stay q-q-quiet, your Highness!" XR squeaked with a high-pitched voice, looking as though a hurricane had tossed him a few miles in the air. Booster was picking his ears with a deformed grimace, asking if a sudden earthquake had hit the house.

"Always some insufferable bug is ululating in the background while the Emperor tries to think! Inexcusable! Unpardonable! Indefensible! Unforgivable! Srnoff! Gruff! Snarl!" the elder Lightyear roared, his fists whacking the air above him. Nonetheless, nobody granted him pondering peace. Out of the blue Munchapper's wrist communicator began having its own recital. The comlink was beeping infernally.

"Ninny quasars! Now what? Is it that grizzled coot from Star Command having a blast?"

"Uh, sorry Sir, but I need to answer, it might be important!" the accused one deplored.

"Hyrrhymph", Zurg crumpled, and took such a surly expression on his face that his already rather long upper lip looked as if someone had stretched it twice longer.

The former farmer flapped his wristcom open, but winced due to the high-pitched birr the com channel kept. The received transmission sounded more like a battered analog radio wheezing and bemoaning when some desperate snailbrain in vain tried finding the FM channels in the AM frequency level.

"_Skiuuviuu... prrts... cpt mrrr--- viuuu--- str comm --- sking for mmedieate ... skuiiv... rpeat, cptn--ra no--screep... mand ask--g for imm--elp snap-crackle-pop surr... I cannot lo-- mys--plea... cate thi sig--- skuiivskuubiduu--- I rpt ple... locate this -nal... iuurk... svuiiish..._"the com channel whined like tired kids in supermarket.

XR and Booster looked mystified at one another. Zurg clicked his tongue annoyed.

"Tsut tsut. Is that pitiful crow chorus the way you pathetic turkeys at that Star Coma communicate at one another? And they keep blaming me about meticulousness because I bought second-handed machine parts from flea market... It was just good dandy money saving! At least my hornets worked, although they sometimes had gramophone parts inside them."

"I... I don't get it..." the Jo-Adian rubbed his bald and squinted hard, "This isn't from Commander Nebula. And it still came from the team channel, not from outside!"

"Hey, my fancy internal comgadget caught it too. But I'd say leave it, it's probably just a cloud of cosmic noise lost in our frequencies---" XR threw in a lazy sarcasm, but a second outburst of whirr and drone smashed his sentence. The same extraterrestrial gibberish nauseated the ether a few times more before it utterly died.

"What is this, a prank call? Are we in the Candid Camera?" he exclaimed the conclusion.

But Zora was nothing but on a satire mood. His deeply furrowed bushy brows and that particular pout of his lips told that someone had scraped the rust a bit off from his cerebral pinions. He was reflecting hard the meaning and existence of that random-sounding squall.

"Grub! Ehh... _Booster_, from _where_ did you say it was coming from?" he pointed at the fatty ranger with a sharp-appearing tip of an abnormally long finger.

"Ehh... our team channel."

"By flamenco-dancing Andromeda, _what is_ a _team channel_? Speak more technically, so that my marvelously clever mind can understand something from that pestilentially indelicate barbaric grunt!"

"_Team channel_ is a strict frequency in the field of electromagnetic wavelengths that transports data signals carried by a strictly defined modulation. _Team channel_ is reserved only for the usage of a specific Star Command space ranger team, and their commander. _Team channel_ strictly implements the standard 53v-5nAp3-222 of the Agreement of Intergalactic Communications Systems, signed by the 2nd Alliance president Z. Beeblebrox, and the former Chief Telecommunications Administrator W. Löllösääri-Pulupolla", the robot had taken a mattress-thick book out of his inners, set a pair of bottle-bottom glasses over his artificial eyes, and was now reading the lines in a raspy, monotonous voice that would put to sleep even someone in caffeine high.

But the old Emperor was more than delighted. "Jim-crackin' -dandy! This is what I call analytical explaining! Remind me that I shall give you my imperial 'worker of the week' badge, when we get home. Now, where was I..." he rubbed his hands together with glee, "Ah, indeed." The nutty mien melted off his face. "That creaking... I think it was a message. I hearkened, and there were clear words in it, though chaotically mixed with the background noise." It did not need much explaining, even if your lackeys were insufferable gits. If the distorted transmission was not from Commander Nebula, it left only one alternative: Mira had squealed it. How, why, from where, that was shady even to the majestic mastermind. Yet, if it _was_ the blue one, it meant that nobody had yet filched her life.

Munchapper and the bot were rather suspicious concerning this newly discovered theorem, but at least the generic giant shyly nodded that perhaps Zurg had a point. The foggy crackle had been recorded, and the old man now listened to it several times. A long thin index kept ferociously tapping his chin, while he contemplated more.

"_str comm --- sking for mmedieate... _hmh. That is Star Command and _something _for immediate...  _I cannot lo-- mys--plea..._She cannot lo-something. Lo-mys-plea? Hmh. Then I clearly heard '_locate this'_. She is asking to locate something that is 'this'. Hyyhyhyy. Hem. Hem."

"I cannot lo-mys-plea?" XR looked a bit uninterested, "What's that supposed to be? _I cannot loathe muesli plea?_' Even amoebas talk things that are more sensible. I still think it's some prank call from some evil hacker kid. Maybe Norbert Klerm. Who knows. But seriously, why would Mira send a message that sounds like Kellogg's Rice Crispies cereal?"

"Perhaps... the transmission was distorted somehow. Scrambling was not invented in yesterday's nerd parties..." Zora's oculars roamed along the ceiling's shadows, "I think... she is trying to explain we should _locate the signal, _that is, _locate her_. Perhaps your Tangean friend does not know where she is." A little annoyed pinkness decorating his cheeks, he snapped at the robot, "And you are supposed to carry one of the most advanced AI chips in your badly lit bulb? Then, tell me why are you not even _trying_ to descramble the signal, or correct it, or whatever? Lo, the Emperor is always the one slaving away with speculation! _AND, _I am quite positive you pathetic pilchard tin might also be able to LOCATE THE SIGNAL!"

The mecha looked as if someone had thumbed him on the head with a bucket of bricks. That was what he had always teemed with on Team Lightyear missions: analyzing complex things with his instruments. Now he just stood there like a futile tree stub.

"A-Okay, righto, gotcha, sure, aye aye captain! Even though you're not a captain" the android fussed about and finally let his inner analyzers to sniff thoroughly the failed message. It seemed, however, that the com channel gibberish had been so badly contorted that only some faint new lumen fell upon the obscured sonnet. But that was enough to draw some crucial conclusions. The sound diagram matched quite well Mira's one, and amazingly, the signal appeared to origin from an unknown place a few miles away. Still, the squabble was not over.

"Uh... Sir, shouldn't we do... umm... a report to Commander Nebula now? I mean... with those parchmyn... erm... parchments, and this really really odd message, shouldn't we like try to get help from Star Command?"

Zurg scowled, having the unserene impression that Zeb would just bark something about early retirement and spas against his face. But he agreed, this situation was not a merry meadow frolicking. Any possible backup might be useful, especially as he was personally going to flit to that burrow from where that transmission had come. Here and now.        

Indeed, the old walrus-moustache was somewhat glowering as the two remaining rangers of Team Nova did their prompt report. He was not too happy to hear how they had bustled into Buzz' hut with no permit, and just because one nutty ex-emperor _on parole_ had doggedly insisted it. In addition, he was bathing in confusion. Parchment, almost lyric threat letters, sensing of the Dark Side? It all sounded like clipped out from some besotted children's fantasy book, which definitely was not very realistic. Still, Zeb did not flush the facts down the toilet, but promised to put up some serious action. The whole hodgepodge was so utterly dodgy that it needed deep-diving under the surface.

"Alright, kids. I'm ordering a few rangers from the local headquarters to come and inspect Buzz' house. XR, transfer the so-called 'message' here, and I'll let the LGM's analyze it, and don't forget to send the details of its origins. We'll deal with that later, when we're sure it's from Captain Nova, as you claim. Sweet mother of Venus, what an infernal mess. And they even said in the office that Buzz had taken sick leave. Craters. Then, the stupid parchment rags..." The austere jaws of the Commander grated the sentences in the wristcom's holoscreen. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of starting to cavil at Zora. He suggested the ex-criminal now ought to go home and leave the rest of the dirty job to the rugged rangers. The following bellow-roar-wrangle performance was so hideous, that it was a mere wonder that Buzz' neighbors in a mile diameter did not all turn deaf. Once again, Star Command was defeated and the victory went to Zurg. Next he was stubbornly dragging both Booster and XR out of the house, in order to go and find out from where the signal had come from. Of course Zeb had suggested the triplet should stay inside and expect the local forces to appear there soon. But, Zurg was not going to perch here like a chubby old chicken on roost and wait for some tardily waddling lousy backward rangers. They would probably sit in their office with their coffee mugs and doughnuts till the end of the universe, before not even understanding to lift their fat hinterlands up. The shreds of Team Nova knew approximately from where the message had been sent; they could well dash out and reach the origin by foot. This was a severe situation, if not an emergency. Something so weird was constantly wriggling behind the scenes, in the obscure pits of unknown...

"Uh, where are we actually going?" Booster panted while stomping forwards on Zora and XR's heels. They had passed the outskirts of Xi Muon forest, slowly entering the darker marquee of green.

"I don't know. I'm just following the trails of the signal. I'm just a cheerleader. Ask the big boss", the android pointed at the Emperor, who leaded the whole pack a few meters ahead. The tracks were very vague, but gave at least the direction where the gabble could have been bred. But even though Munchapper wheezed more questions, the dictator remained quiet like bedrock. And so it was, the more the pine needles crackled under his huge boots, the more laconic his form transformed.

The Emperor could not conceive why the weird searing in his temples had come back. Was it a sign of something... something atrocious that was sliding nearer? Or what?

He still recalled these bushes, the bottle-green mist of the trees... the sweetish scent of resin and bark... The years had whipped past, the shrubberies grown thicker, whereas countless new sprouts of life had emerged from the mould. But the stones and the oldest tree grandfathers were the same. Yet, the point of view was slightly different. Whereas these sky-tickling woods had been so colossal in the impression of a knee-high brat, nowadays they were missing a hunch from that awe-inspiring majesty. And the one who observed them with his age-grooved face, had fallen towards the evening of his life... unlike these ancient giants that would stand long after he had turned to dust.

He had not galloped in this forest since his early teen diurnals. But those times, this introvert shelter had been one of his favorite hideouts. He had later on become to hate nature with the whole darkness of his heart, but just because he saw his past in it, the past of grief losses. Morph just kept reminding him of Adi... even now, involuntarily. He gulped the tart dollop down, and carried on his half-jogging form of clomping.

A drowsy, almost gummy silence tarried in the trees, merging with that something ominous, nameless...

He had never understood why his mother had always warned him not to enter too deep into the woods. And that fingershaking had not come just because she though her wee Zoxe Iddikens would get lost. No, there was some other, unknown reason. As if she had been afraid of something unidentified that might reside here...

From beyond the black seas of decades, Zora tasted his childhood adventures. If his deceased mother would have whispered the same words into his ear now, he would have perhaps agreed. Time made the difference; he was mature enough to understand... But what was there to be understood? There were no answers, just the miasma prowling behind the thickets.

His long legs leapt over a tree trunk covered in thick, ruffled moss. His sturdy body angrily stormed through a large, superbly opulent shrub. A swarm of minuscule, golfball-sized bush owls burst out of it, hooting anxiously. Behind him, Booster and XR had trouble keeping up with the haste. Especially the robot, whose caterpillars were not designed for cavorting in semi-swampy moss. In Zurg's left side, in the dark-green mist, was delineated the black lumpy outline of a gigantic erratic.

He recalled this place... vaguely... some distance away was the odd stone circle he had once found. The memento had just abruptly popped out of the sackcloth liquids of his subconscious. Were the ruins still there? Zurg had been perhaps twelve or thirteen when he for the last time had laid a glance over them. Those boulders that had attracted him in such a magical way when he was a kid... He never had slipped a syllable to Zoxekov or his mother what he had found during one prohibited escapade. Repeatedly, the bewitched allurement of that nameless wreck had called him to visit it... as if the earth underneath the partly burnt rocks had sung some sort of sweet beguiling lore...

Were they traveling towards those particular ruins? A slightly cold emotion filled Zora's chest. And the ghost of XR's unconcernedly shot jest about Buzz's looks compared to a certain someone did not waft away from his sober mind.

---------------------

Mira slapped the lid of her wristcom shut. It was futile to cry for help any longer; the wane network connections had passed away. Sighing, she looked around in the narrow, vaulted alleyway. Hunger churned in her stomach, the air's musty dankness nettled in her lungs. The Tangean was so exhausted, thirsty, fatigued... Staggering she stood on her jellyish legs, but the ghosting force was snatched away. Now what? This nightmare was nothing but over.

There were two alternatives where to go, and the both options looked just as saddening. The both ends of the corridor dived into mere blackness. She chose haphazardly a direction, and began limping towards the pitch-dark larynx.

*****

Evil Buzz glared at his spyscreen with aghast frenzy. Where was Mira Nova? He flipped through the channels, and a picture of every one of those blue cubicles appeared in turn onto the monitor. And their shimmer was existing without the Princess crouching inside any of them. A gurgle of spit gargled fiercely in the Shadow's maw. What had happened? His sweating fingers clicked all over again the switcher. More slimy earthworms wriggled down his back as more and more empty cells appeared in front of his nose. And this day had started so well... he had broken into Buzz' house, and lured the idiots in his work place to believe the Captain was on a sick-leave. Oh, how easy it had been to cheat those feeble-minded lack-wits just by showing his mug in Lightyear's vidphone. It was his sole luck that his non-evil alternate universe twin had, for some reason, grown a beard just identical to his one. Why, it was unintelligible. Had not that goody-goody pipsqueak always preferred smooth cheeks and presenting the ninny swirl of his chin? 

Either this or that, at the moment the topmost issue was Nova's alarming absence. _Had that cursed blue chick gotten out? _Nothing like that was supposed to happen! The prison was supposed to be firmer than Karn's mountains.

On the other hand... Karn's mountains were not firm. At least not in his universe, where he had bombed them to ashes just for one day's fun.

"Where is that darn Tangean...?" he spluttered, saliva trickling down his beard. The flickering lantern hued his scowling mad eyes xanthous. Indeed, something peculiar was going on in the deep dungeons. Unfortunately, Evil Buzz had not activated the whole ancient monitoring system; he had only this one screen in use on the vast console. It would take a whole day or more to warm up the unused, cobwebbed thingamabobs.

"Craters!" he barked at the walls, taking a violent swoop in the air with his black, flowing robes. Would he himself need to go and search for the runaway bunny? What a hellish task to do... especially as he now recalled that Mira was armed. In the corner of his lobe, he yet wished that he would find her crumpled in some remote cell, preferably dead.

By pushing a small button near the monitor, he extracted the flat screen out of the main console. Luckily he was able to turn it into a nifty portable version, otherwise the scanning of the cubicle myriads would have been even more infernal. He would continue the screening on the way towards the jail floors.  

He picked up his viper staff from the nearby table. The Evil Lightyear's fingers smoothed its shiny surface with ill hilarity. A sickly sadistic grimace drew his mouth from ear to ear, as he petted his weapon.

"Perhaps I could get rid of that pest for good... hahahaha. I could finally take the last squeak out of that chick... wouldn't be there any more to foil my plans... hehehe..."

The Shadow swept out of the main chamber's door, the poison-green orb of the lantern hovering around him like a vile aura.      

**...to be continued...**


	19. The crypt

Gradually the pace of Zurg's boots slowed down. He no longer hopped over the bushes like an oversized purple bunny being chased by a fox. Moreover, the closer the destination loomed, the ickier shade of green his face received.

It was back there, the call of the soil. The odd feeling of bewitchment that had teemed along his spine over forty years ago. But now... now the emotion was not a gentle fairy offering him a snow-white slender hand to hold. No, the lore-singing elf of his imagination had abruptly grown venomous fangs, her eyes had turned to vile, red slits, and her once so beautiful slim body had turned scaly, squirming, slimy. All the beauty of that allurement had been swept away. All the charm of that age-old stone ring, all the uplifting feeling of adventure... it all had carried horrible, image-distorting falsity in it. Now, as the Nex Crucio ruins and the elder version of that adventuresome boy met again after the decades, the burned stones seemed to growl some sort of terrible black song of doom. Their mossy heads peeked from behind the high-growing, time-honored tree roots. The whole rushing trio stopped dead as Zora halted totally his footwear's stomping.

"A-are w-whh-eee th... th...there now--hhhh?" Booster panted, sweat dripping down his bald. A few meters behind, XR was jammed in a great swampy tuft of moss, and his caterpillars were rolling merely nowhere.

"Well, seems like a good spot for me to get stuck here forever!" the robot snarled. Accelerating his crawlers, he tried another spurt out of the soggy prison. But this caused him only to sink deeper. "I don't know how our Jedi Master knew to stop on the right spot. Maybe he used the force or whatever obi-van-kenobi-codswallop. But whatever, Mira's signal tracks end here."

At this point, Zora uttered the ever-first syllables during the forest racing. So far he had been as mute as a fish on dry land.

"This place..." he murmured beetle-browed, "...the ominous sensation inside me has only grown. I cannot explain what it is. This place bears something nameless inside itself, something more evil than my whole stock of distilled evilness I had in my glorious palace..."

The air stood still in the misty green pavilion of ancient trees. A lonely owl hooted somewhere nearby. XR and Munchapper stole glances from one another.

"You know this place, Sir?" the red alien noted.

"Yes... Behind there", the Emperor pointed at the oak formation ahead, "there is an old, destroyed tower or fortress of some kind. I do not quite know its history. It has no name; it has not been marked in the maps. I... used to come here often when I was young."

The two chums leered at the cracked, miry pillars that were protruding from the ground like broken, rotten teeth from an old skull's bony gums. But they could not perceive Zurg's odd graveness concerning this forgotten site. That was just a bunch of boring brittle wrecks, nothing fundamental. Was it not more important to try to search for Mira than start playing archeologist?

"Umm, hello?" the mecha waved a set of desperate fingers, "Shouldn't we try to find our princess? The damsel is in distress. And _I'm_ in distress. Someone get me out of this boghole, I think it wants to eat me!" He was now halfway sunken inside the tussock. But the hummock had no time to enjoy his metallic aroma completely, since Booster came swiftly to dig him out of its sodden embrace. Soon XR was safely back on the dry land, but his linguistic features had not been enhanced a bit. Now he was uttering highly non-children-friendly expressions, due to the fact that his brilliantly polished lower body was covered with tacky dripping slush. Not to mention that his caterpillars were half-clogged with grass and mud.

"Oh the bliss of this idyllic forest pique-nique! I'm loving every microsecond!"

The royal had advanced a few gaits towards the rocks. He was fingering his beard with severe contemplation. So, the Tangean had sent the message from somewhere here... but why _here_? At least forty years ago this nook had been utterly abandoned. Even now, the life consisted almost only of those ruddy owls and some squirrels hyperactively bouncing in the trees. And, if she had been here, where was she now? Or was it all a false alarm?

No, the latter notion was out of the question. Nothing swept away the portentous presence of the Dark Side. As if these very stones were emitting it, the earth underneath radiating its atrocious, deceitful existence...

_'A great evilness was hidden within the forest...' _ His mother had not driveled abracadabra, not even in _this case_. Had not her bedtime stories always had a truth basis? Like the one about Natron, the one of the wee genius' ultimate favorites. Every kind of legend about a great dark menace had always intrigued him the most as a pint-high brat.

With labor, he pushed the lamentable thoughts aside.

"Now, grubs... eh... whatever. We shall start searching for your Tangean friend. XR, do you have any kind of itchymizer to trace her DNA or relevant?"

"Sure, sure, let's do it in the snuffles style!" The little android drew an artificial smell detector out of his midsection. The device, which resembled an overly swollen humanoid nose, started sniffing and snuffling the air around, its rather hairy nostrils quivering enthusiastically. After a few seconds, the loose body part began spluttering and sneezing ferociously.

"Hey, the snout got a trace! It obviously sensed the divinely odorous scent of Mira's perfume!" the mecha exaggerated. He aimed his wheels towards the rock formation, but was in a few minutes blocked up amidst the high, tangled rootstalks. In every case, it was now confirmed that the last traces of the blueblood ended somewhere inside those burned ruins.

Zora had no trouble whatsoever to climb over the rhizome and enter the ill-boding dead turret. Booster somehow squeezed through the gap between two massive oaks, obviously with the famous 'think thin'-method. XR was once more generously freed from the root cage. The troop slowly entered the time-beaten circle of formidable mysteries. Inside the ruins it was easier to move around, since the site was rather large and there was plentiful of space even for the Jo-Adian to waddle. The tarnished stones stared at them callously with nonexistent eyes. Another heir of the Lightyear blood had treaded upon the secrets of his ancestry. 

Zurg hiked grimly around the crushed bastions. They looked like just the same as forty years ago. Perhaps the rain had grooved a bit more their surface, perhaps more lichen had bearded them... but nothing could fade their colossal, uncanny majesty. He paced tardily past a collapsed wall that still bore ornamental engravings about wriggling vipers. That reminded him of the one thing he had wondered as a snotty pre-teen... Why was this wreck full of snake symbols? Kaon or its near cities had no relevant architecture whatsoever; this creepy turret had its very unique face. More snakes... the Emperor scowled at a carefully sculpted pillar that had a hideous-looking rupture in the middle. Its other end apparently lay somewhere under the earth's moss. The remaining part of it was hewed into the form of an enormous, uprising cerastes. Where mold and moss was not growing, the animal's scales showed almost nitpicky detail. But this hole was definitely not an ancient snake farm... that was sure.

The search seemed more futile than trying to find a grain of rice from a swimming pool full of sand. XR's extraneous nose kept sputtering and spattering, but abruptly it just plain lost the stench. Zurg erupted like a small volcano as the two rangers began shrugging shiftless, demanding them to find a gazillion other ways to snoop around. Huffing, he emerged from the middle of the main stone ring to cool himself down a tad. He had lost enough enamel already today by grating his teeth, and by this tempo, would need to consider dentures in a few weeks. But wise calming-down saved his gloriously dazzling big chewing bones from such a terrible destruction. Arms folded over his chest, face in a grimace that resembled an overhand knot, he trotted among the bushes and glared at the tiny owls that were coming to goggle at the sudden hubbub in their normally so peaceful habitat. Zora had always had the impression that ninety percent of this primeval forest's fauna consisted of owls. Big and fat or thumbnail-sized, always there was a pack of these roundish birds lolling somewhere. As if someone had dumped the whole galaxy's owls on this particular planet.

Still hugging his sides, the male approached a strange-looking cluster of stones a bit further from the main devil's nest. It bore likeliness to Celtic dolomites, but was missing the roofing. Instead, it had a third wall made of gravure-decorated smooth granite. This particular boulder was smashed behind the two opposite stones so that it was like a little room with only three murals. A huge, craggy branch of a hoary willow curved over the whole formation like a large, skeletal hand ready to snatch the cringing rocks into a hard pinch. 

The dusky greenness created eerie shadows among the bushes. Especially the ancient willow looked as though it had been the skeleton of some giant, primordial monster. The ragged holes in its immense trunk stared hollowly around. Almost one could see vileness in their grimace. But Emperor Zurg, the nefarious galactic ex-terror did not shiver in his pants just because of some old ugly tree. Moreover, his perilous dagger-sharp scowl made those pathetic vegetables almost shudder inside _their_ baulks. 

His gaits converged the semi-dolomite. Even this cairn was more familiar to him than his pockets. The wee Zoxedazeĉ had often stood inside it, picking his nose, gaping at the snake illustrations that meandered across the three walls. The willow's branch had sprouted leaves still then. But obviously sometime during the Evil Z Empire's reign, the tree had for the most part fossilized.

Zora had never understood the meaning of this extraneous rock hovel. Perhaps it was some sort of altar. From some point of view, it resembled one. It was not burned like the rest of its siblings; obviously the major destruction had never kissed it with flames. But... what sense was in the idea of it being an altar, he inquired himself. Pitiful childish imagination... The old man found his awareness roaming again. He was supposed to concentrate on finding clues about the lost blue girl. According to the parchment, the foe -whoever diabolic dark lord that then was- had trapped her into some sort of devil's snare. What was that supposed to be? And why would the wheezing transmission had come from _here_?

He picked the crumpled parchment pieces out of his pocket. The inkblotted, askew handwriting fought with itself on the material's amber surface. His own lettering looked quite much the same: theatrical, billowing, edgy. But there seemed to be nothing new in the old mantra of those gloating messages. Just the same sick cackling of a psychopath sadist.

But, out of the blue some brilliantly purple lightbulb ignited inside Zurg's brainbucket. This smell... _ he had been pouting previously due to the icky moldy reek coming from the letter shreds. _Actually, as he was stagnating here near the quasi-zombified willow, that _same_ stench hovered faintly in the air. It was the typical tang of rotting leaves and mildew, the most typical smell of forest soil. Of course, the Emperor could have not instantly associated it. Tens of years he had ruled a demonic planet, where every single green turf had been maliciously whacked away or burned. He had hated fresh nature through the deepest chasms of his subconscious.

He squatted down onto the brushwood mat to verify his assumption. Yes, the reek was deeper now. He crept a few meters hither and thither, ending up to hunker right inside the weird dolomite. The smell was even stronger just an inch above the rock, where some bottle-green moss was sojourning. He raised the parchment rags once more underneath his thin nose and sniffed them.

The following sizzle in Zora's synapses was a complex squirm of associations wriggling to and fro. Musty stink, old ruins, parchment, the vaults and crypts of his nightmare, the Dark Side's prowling presence, the bewitching lore of the soil, Mira's muddled message...

_Was there something under the ground?_

The sole lux of this notion was so startling, that the man escaped on his legs. It felt somehow thoroughly absurd, and on the other hand, fiendishly clever. But would not someone know if there was something underneath? This was a common forest, though this spot perched nearly ten kilometers away from Kaon. Still, somehow, the conception made perfectly sense. It was the only logical terminal where all the roads of reflection ended.

He targeted a cantankerous goggle at the dolomite's floor. It was partly buried into the moss, but in places, a smooth stone basis was visible. Out of sheer, abrupt curiosity, he kicked some of the biggest tussocks away with a foot the size of a miniature rowboat. More of that rock was revealed. Some angry dungbeetles and earthworms writhed viciously in the mould heaps he had so violently lashed aside. His determined boot thumped the stone slab hard a few times.

_There was a hollow echo beneath the rock._

He stamped again the hard surface, picking his ear vulgarly with an index. No, Zora had not heard wrong. The earth responded with the same low-booming echo. Frowning, he descended onto his fours. Could there perhaps be some kind of separate hatch or relevant leading to the possible empty space underneath? Stubbornly solid bedrock did not give such a symphony when being knocked; there truly had to be _something_ below.

He brushed more mould off from the stone floor's surface. For a while, he endeavored searching for edges, seams, anything that could be the characteristics of a liftable shutter. He even ran his fingers along the walls' baseboards, but nothing even there. Raising up, he wiped the soil off from his expensive, tailored trousers, and set a confused finger onto his lower lip. The conception of that subterranean crypt had in a nanosecond transformed into such an obsession, that Zurg would by any means have to find out if his gloriously genius mind had cooked up a perfect theorem. But... if His Majesty was on the right track, how was anyone supposed to get down there, if there was no door whatsoever? He was no Casper the Friendly Ghost nor had a single milliliter of Tangean blood in his veins. But perhaps the rock could be cut open. Oh, if he only had had his imperial uniform now on, he would have blasted that blasted block-witted block into spinning ions with his eye lasers! Or, so he believed.

"Lackeys!" he clicked his fingers to the space rangers that were merely loitering in the monolith garden. "I shall need your help here!" Rather lazily toddling, the addressed emerged from the sea of broken stones and tottered over the shrubberies. The Emperor shot them with a very cattish glare. No need to mention, that those two space heroes had not spotted even a footprint. On the other hand, it was swiftly revealed to the gang leader that they had not been as idle as mushrooms under a tree. XR had hearingly fluoroscoped some of the stone structures with a T-ray scanner, but it had showed nothing but solid rock. In any case, now the royal was demanding the robot to apply the same gizmo to monitor if there was something under the stone slab.

For Zurg's surprise and slight disappointment, XR could produce only shrugs concerning the rock. The scanner screen gave the impression as though the ground would be as passable as a cul-de-sac. Nonetheless, the old male's snarl was not content at all with the result. Why did something sound _hollow_ if it was solid? The next stubborn growl inquired the android to try cutting the rock with laser and see if it would loosen.

"Now see here, grandpa, the fluoroscope would have shown if there's a secret, mysterious pirate cave below there." XR jabbered while he tuned his laser drill. "See, I saw this rock off, and we'll come across just a heap of mould, or perhaps an angry mole whose house we have so brutally broken..." Nonetheless, the next view gave some amazed yelps and caused vastly more head-scratching. Actually, the cyborg's laser did nothing. It hissed and crackled fiercely, but the rock remained without a scratch. Evidently, this quite neatly gave basis to Zurg's assumptions.

"That double-doomed unpurple stone is laser-proof! Now how normal is that? So perfectly perverted. Why would some sniveling pipsqueak want to build a laser-proof building inside a dratted forest?"

"I don't know. Maybe some paranoid hermit who's afraid of an intergalactic Armageddon", the wee tin jar blurted. Next, the squad attempted to saw the rock with an ultraviolet laser, with no better luck. And, eventually, not even a low-tuned proton ray heaved up the mulish brick. They could not pitch the latter doohickey into any higher frequencies, because that would have possibly caused a massive forest-fire. Even now some of the nearest bushes had been nicely charred. And what became to Zurg, he was throwing a tantrum like a five-year-old brat that did not get ice cream. He wanted to go through that granite and immediately!

Yet, now even XR and Booster had to admit that this was beyond normal. A small discussion about the odds of some kind of a force field covering the stone lighted up among the triplet. Although the likelihood of such a thing was as minuscule as a quark, it on the other hand might have explained why Mira's transmission was distorted so infernally, and why the T-ray scanner could not penetrate the surface. But how did that make any sense, in the long run? Force fields in a common forest, in the middle of ancient ruins?

XR's last means to try to chop that bull-headed stone was a Gluon Disintegrator, which the LGM's had developed a few months ago. Of course the prototype of this drill had been installed inside the expandable ranger. The whole science relating to gluon annihilating was still in the cradle, but at least the dojigger in his midsection was rather stable-functioning. Rubbing his fists together and grinning like Arnold Schwarzenegger, XR aimed the gluon disintegration ray towards the stone. A pinkish beam of light flashed in the air, and with a horrible stink, the rock surprisingly began melting. The three faces were drawn into jubilant grins. Slowly, but surely, a reedy hole started forming onto the ground. As the granite melted, its particles turned to sheer vapor. And, the gap grimacing amongst the vegetation truly showed that the space beneath the stone was nothing but enclosed. Moreover, there seemed to be some sort of vast hall down there. The daylight did not yet reveal the whole room, but shaded the murals near the broken ceiling with misty lumen. Evidently they had been one day made of rather finely-sculpted bricks, and they curved upwards to form artful arching. Here and there, tree roots meandered across the walls they had partly pierced, and tiny light-fearing insects escaped into their black muddy nests.

A drastic shiver went down Zora's spine, while a white-cold emotion froze his heart. 

_That crypt down there looked just like the one in his ghastly nocturnal torture._

"Now, this is freaking me out", the robot shuddered while watching at the sepulcher vault. "You're saying Mira's down _there_? And I thought they got stuff like this only in those old black-and-white vampire movies!"

"I do not know..." Zoxedaszeĉ croaked, "But we shall go down there. Now."

It was a sheer miracle how Munchapper squeezed himself through the molten stone and ultimately thudded onto the arcade's floor. The triplet was in the very same passageway, which Evil Buzz used as his foyer into the bowels of earth. The slippery staircase jutted in one cobwebbed corner, vanishing upwards towards the tree-entrance. A few meters distance from the gang, was a heavy stone door leading somewhere. It was just barely Munchapper's size, but perhaps with a good kick of luck, he might force himself through a tight spot once more. The structures down here were clearly designed for human-sized beings, not for extramorphean aliens.

The triplet soon perceived how much cleaner and drier it was behind that very exit. The mud and insects were gone, and the air was a tad less dank than in the lobby. XR lit a cozy yellow spotlight to guide the way in the new crypt they had encountered. Visibly some tomb raider used this corridor rather frequently. Still, nothing faded away the eerie atmosphere lingering in every single nook... especially as it felt like that the adventurers had just submerged inside the Emperor's ominous, gothic nightmare.

--------------------

A malignantly sadistic grin lit Evil Buzz Lightyear's face. The little phosphorescent spy screen in his hands showed a nervous female figure wandering along an unlit alleyway. The girl looked feeble, exhausted, and kept clasping her ribs every once in a while, bursting into deep-gurgling coughs. Yet, this only lifted up the Shadow's sick exhilaration. She suffered. She almost crawled. And she was to crawl and suffer even more.

He adjusted a few of the portable monitor's buttons. Mira Nova was roving along the main alleyway of Level 4.2-Y. How on Saturn had she gotten so far from the blue cells? That he could not understand. Something in his 'waterproof' plan had leaked. Yet... the Princess looked so fatigued, that it would be a piece of meteoroid to take her down single-handedly. Or... was he underestimating the Tangean? In his own universe, Mira was a tenacious fighter whom he had not yet vanquished. Undoubtedly she had to have at least a few of the same features also in this alternate reality. Hence he should be a tad more careful in his actions. Evil Buzz, in his overflowing egoism, kept easily forgetting that he was an invalid. So, for a second he considered slipping into the shelter of his invisibility cloak, but comprehended that he could not hide his weapon anyhow. He could not shoot the runaway bird _through_ the cloth; he would only fire his own robes. But... he would eliminate that lass for sure. She was just on the way, causing extraneous harm.

Fondling his snake staff with gloved fingertips, he adjusted the plasma-laser pulse regulator on its handle. The viper was turning deadly venomous now, as the controller was slid from stun to kill. Or... maybe just a bit below the killing dose, so that she would pine... His ill mind took pleasure in every moment of the sadistic dream he cherished. A sniggering cackle rattled in the stairway as he with a swirl of cloak took a flight towards the unsuspecting woman.             

***********

Mira took a moment to observe the way she had selected. It was leading upwards, and that was a good sign. Indisputably, she was trapped deep under the ground. As long as she would come across staircases leading towards the earth's surface, she would have at least some hope of finding out of this Gehenna. Nova had ascended a few of those on her voyage across these endless-feeling arcades. Another positive sign was also the lesser mustiness of air. Still... all the climbing and strolling drained her energy maliciously, not to mention that her throat was burning with thirst.

She was panting in a fork of three different alleyways. Oh, how she hated this labyrinth. In her desperation, she had even attempted to leer around for guideposts or relevant. Occasionally her regard had attached itself onto a few timeworn brass plates pinned onto the walls. But they were so battered that she could not distinguish the old, curvy lettering carved on them. Whoever had designed this limbo, definitely had wished the travelers to get lost and decay in the abysmal tunnels.

_Tip, tip, tip..._ Water was dripping somewhere. Her heavy, wheezing inhales got mixed with the noise. But, abruptly she pricked up her ears, turning stiff on her position. 

_Had she heard a gush of canvas sweeping nearby­?_

In sudden panic, she twirled around, jumping a few inches aside from her previous posture. This prompt twist perhaps saved a centimeter of her life, since a microsecond later, a green flash of light hit the wall beside her, shattering a part of the tiling.

Manic laughter boomed somewhere nearby her, croaking in the fusty air with the voice of Buzz Lightyear. Mira could not see clearly forwards, the green blaze was burning as two blaring blotches in her oculars. Somewhere behind the after image of that half-fatal fire, hovered faintly the outline of a man in black, flowing robes. Evil Buzz had extinguished his lantern, and insidiously swept behind Nova by taking a cunning detour.

Cold fear suddenly strangled the woman's throat. This catacombish maze alone was horrible enough to cause desperate panic. And now she had seemingly collided with the lethal Minotaur himself. Her strength was so drained, so rundown... but Mira would not surrender, nor be devoured by that gorgon. She would combat as long as even one string of life held her soul together.

Another green blaze whizzed in the air, hitting her partly. The plasma-laser pulse ripped the left side of her space ranger uniform broken, and made her moan in stinging pain. Haphazardly the Tangean replied to the fire, shooting with her still working wrist laser. Oh, if only those flaring green spots had vanished from her visual field. She hardly saw longer than a few feet onwards. And what to do in a ghastly situation like this? The Princess would need to flee, and fast. Go upwards. Anywhere, upwards, there would be the salvation. This frail hope she repeated in her mind as a mantra. It boosted her almost nonexistent force at least an inch. Her legs leapt into a run. Another zap with a hoarse laughter thundered somewhere near her.

"Want to play tag, huh? Hahahahah. Come here and crawl... you know you want to end that pathetic life of yours... it has no meaning... wouldn't death be so blissful... hehehehe..." Evil Buzz drawled in a sickly persuading, almost honeyed tone. This merely sent more cold wriggles down Mira's spine. She randomly chose one of the three tunnels in the fork, starting to rush along it. Blazes of green light were swirling around her as manic, murderous fireworks. Her legs were throbbing; her lungs were being grilled in stinging perdition... Coughing mucus out of her throat, she as her last hope activated the jetpack. The tunnel was wide enough so that she could fly in it. Only if it would lead somewhere...

_Please don't let it be an impasse..._ she moaned in her mind. The jetpack swooped into life, and a light sensation of freedom spread through her body as the air started carrying her. And, miraculously, there were evident stairs ahead... leading upwards. With a sharp curve, she accelerated her pace and soon was whizzing upwards the escalators, dodging more of those hellish shots. Nonetheless, her feeble joy of escaping did not last long. Abruptly, a horrid, paralyzing stream of wrench wormed through her body. With a sickening crunch, she was dropped onto one landing. Her jetpack was smoldering, the second wing was crushed. Her right gauntlet was partly molten; not even a crumb of her wrist ray was functional.

"Here kitty kitty kitty..." the Shadow's awfully cajoling falsetto was singing feet away from her. Coughing and spluttering, she took an attempt to get back on her legs. But it was impossible, she hardly felt them. Her muscles were on fire, nettling, smarting, as if she had been rolling about on hot coals. A dull, monotonous hum was pounding in her head, ready to lull her into sleep... eternal sleep...

"NO... no... no... you can't give up, you just can't!" she bit her lips, obliging her shivering arms to drag her form into a sitting position. Somewhere behind Nova, the Shadow gloated with silent snorts, taking ill satisfaction of her painful attempts to get up.

"I know you want to end it... now, cry in front of me, crawl in front of me... Bow to death, princessy. I might even make it easy on you... the death might be quick... it might be even painless... I would not know... I have never died..."

A callous, sepulchral muteness hovered above the stairhead a few creeping seconds. The only rending noises were Mira's stridulous inhales. But her inners were screaming through her flaming eyes. Her mad scowl told the Shadow that his wishes were futile. Even in the near death, Nova was not kneeling to that mere demon. In the phosphorescent, green glow of her uniform remains, the two foes stared at one another. So... this was what the pride of the galaxy had finally become? A murderer, fallen to the bottomless damnation of the Dark Side.

None of them spoke before an odd whirr started romping in Evil Buzz' pocket.

"What the---" he snapped, taking a slapdash glance at his robes, where the portable monitor was hidden. It was lightly screaming with the intruder warning signal.

The small distraction was enough. Nova had no idea from where she sucked the abrupt energy into her. Perhaps it was just the steeled determination of not to die squirming in front of that devil's pawn. Although the ache slashed her every muscle and articular, Mira took a spurt upwards and began limping up the remaining set of stairs. Her legs were not to follow the thoughts, they staggered, persisted every gait... but on she went, forcibly... the seconds were jammed inside the thick, glutinous goo of confusion. She had no idea what was occurring behind her.

The Shadow glared at his monitor with disbelief. The spy screen showed three figures walking fast along the main entrance corridor. This sole observation had petrified him so deeply that he did not even notice how the injured prey began slowly hauling herself out of the death's nest. How could this be? Nobody was supposed to get inside here, the least to _find_ inside this forgotten fortress.

Yet, Evil Buzz' hackles rose upper, as he perceived who was leading the intruder army. A toweringly tall, sturdy, scowling figure draped in purple... the odd father of the real Buzz Lightyear.

A few more steps... just a few more... two more... one more... still one more... there was light coming from the open doorway. Dancing, placidly yellow light... unlike the venom-green lux of the pursuing menace. Mira was crawling up the escalator on her fours, coughing phlegm and tiny blood drops out of her lungs. There were voices in the ether... familiar, encouragingly familiar voices...

A few more steps... Her hand reached the exit's threshold. A few seconds later, her upper body splatted onto the stone slabs of the main corridor's floor. The vaulted archway was spinning in her vision, the yellow lumen created uncanny shapes and shadows to frolic around. Three darker figures were emerging from the dusk... were they just ghosts of her tired attentiveness, or children of reality? As if she had seen Booster, XR, and some third man wrigglingly jogging along the corridor...

She feebly raised a trembling hand upwards, and produced a raucous croak.

"..._Help me_..."

**...to be continued...** Comments?         


	20. Clash of identities

The vaulted corridor kept slightly meandering as the steps carried the three men onwards. Their mouths were drawn into mute lines most of the time, their suspicious glances leered at the arching walls, their heavy steps boomed with charnel hollowness. Not yet had the triplet come across any junctions or doors, excluding a few holes that were firmly bricked in. As this place was eerily robed in the atmosphere of ancient catacombs already, nobody quite wanted to know what ghastly secrets might lurk behind those heavily sealed exits. 

But, who or what had built this vast architectural complex, and why? How large was it actually? Although this sole archway seemed slithering onwards for forever, it obviously was just some kind of an antechamber for a gargantuan subterranean fortress. In any case, evidently one or more intelligent beings lived here. Once, the troop gathered to amaze a potato chips wrapper lying among the centennial dust of one corner. Although foil quite did not decompose, that trash definitely looked like as though it had been there only a fortnight. So, whatever prowled here, consumed at least some amounts of junk food.

During one corridor curve, Booster made an uncanny note that his wrist communicator could not connect either to the satellite network, and that some diabolic fiend had stolen even the LAN connections. XR's com widgets were suffering from the same palsy. A few simple equations were solved, the conclusion being that there was indeed a signal-jamming force field gamboling around the underground rooms. But why all that complexity and nitpicky labor with shields? Laser-persistent walls, radar blockers... the more the steps went onwards, the more the weirdness took over the climate.

The alleyway was descending for the first time. The trio stomped down numerous stairways made of polished black stone. XR's yellow hobbling spotlight also revealed how the murals began bearing more decorations, though they mostly depicted the same wriggling stone serpents as the burned rocks up there. Occasionally they had to slip through moldy bug-eaten drop-curtains that were hung in the ceiling. The crimson tapestries had not been the cheapest of kind: gold and silver embroidery glistened gracefully in the lumen. Obviously the voyagers were coming closer to core of these headquarters.

Abruptly, embowed doorways diverged from the shadows. Their black openings gaped balefully at the triplet from the opposite walls. The yellow light orb was wide enough to exhibit the down-going escalators that were faintly looming beyond the thresholds. The men stopped their rush.

"Umm... should we go and check out these? Hot rockets, they look so scary!" Booster flapped.

"They are not scarier than me", Zurg grunted. "But I believe we ought to see were this main corridor leads until we shall begin to..."

A feeble moan coming from somewhere broke his sentence. The males almost collided with the ceiling in their sudden jumpiness. Something was silently moving in the unlit part of the alleyway, where more of those doors were outlined. A few sluggish seconds the team just stagnated stiff, and listened to the sepulchral, cold timidity.

Then, the sound was there again. A frail moan of pain, followed by a sweeping noise... as if something had dragged itself arduously along the stone. Such a ghostly sound in a cemetery-esque hole like this was only suited to enhance the creepiness. 

"It is coming from this way", the Emperor prompted, and prodded a pale, skeletal finger towards one of the doorways some twenty meters ahead. "We shall go to see what it is. Keep your lasers ready." It was peculiar, how the normally so ludicrous and childish Zurg could keep so cool and severe in situations like this. All the mere doating preposterousness was washed away with strong soap.

With a swift speed, the squad reached the doorway. During the short route, the source of the wailing quickly took shape. A woman's weary figure had halfway hauled itself onto the stone slabs, her legs still being sunken inside the open gateways. She was gurgling and coughing hideously, dressed in something that looked like a badly torn Star Command uniform.

"Oh my goodness, it's MIRA!" Munchapper was to gasp his lungs out. Soon the men were kneeling around the sputtering woman, helping her out of the exit's gorge.

"Here the floor is cleaner, bring her here!" She was set a few meters away from the door's chasm to rest on the flagstones. The first notion was that Nova did not breathe properly. From the infinite stocks of XR's inners was soon picked out a small cylinder of fresh air. A respiratory-aiding mask together with an inhalator was put over her mouth. In addition, it did not require quite many microseconds to notice that she had been shot several times with plasma missiles.

"Who did this to you? Who closed you here?" Zora inquired gravely. But Mira's hacking and spluttering did not pass proper answers. She seemed to be teetering on the edge of obnubilation. Her hands were listlessly gesturing somewhere, but the men could not understand the meaning.

"B---Buzz... g-hh--- grhlll... g-gone m-mad..."

"What are you trying to tell us? Who did this?"

"He-he's g-ghh-gone MAD! Buzz... he--he's t-trying to kill me, help..." the Princess squirmed.

The men filched thunderstruck glances from one another. What was she talking about?

***

A pair of vile blue eyes scowled at the alleyway from the shelter of darkness. Their malignant glint was silently sniggering at the view spreading anteriorly: the intruders were in a fit to heal up the Shadow's quasi-dead victim. Oh that dismal will to nurse... they were so excited to kneel there in the dust and buzz around that sordid chick... backs against him... so easy. Too easy.

With a tender swish of robes, Evil Buzz emerged from the gullet of the same doorway from where Nova had been carted out. Almost in a caressing manner, he slid the plasma-laser regulator of his weapon into the full killing dose. A wide, smooth grin spread on his face as he pointed the viper staff towards the small crowd, drawling,

"Hands up, scum... unless you really want to get fried."

Zurg, Booster, and XR's heads were flung violently to the direction of the shout. In a few meters distance, a menacing figure carrying Buzz Lightyear's face, was hovering in the mere air, its black, glossy robes lightly rippling. Another sudden confusion hit the men hard on their heads, making them leap on their legs.

Mira gave a desperate moan on the floor, as the comprehension of an ambush dawned in her. Through the coughs, she raved,

"I...I t-tried to tell Buzz has gg-h-gone crazy! He... he has probably k-gh-killed his wife already and now he tried to kill me! He's b-been playing some dirty games behind our backs the... ghghh... w-w-whole time!"

Munchapper and the robot gawped at the hovering foe with horrid disbelief.

"B-but Buzz, it's US! Your friends! Your family!"

"Heheheh. Nice to meet again, idiots", the Shadow's lopsided mouth mocked, playing the thrilling game of a copycat. "You, fathead, pick up the chick. We're going to have a nice family reunion deeper in the dungeons." He gestured the Jo-Adian to lift up the injured woman. Balancing with his hover boots, his robes billowing, the man approached Zurg. "Oh, Daddy decided to join our little party too---" But, something in the deep frown of the old emperor made the syllables turn to dust on his palate. Zurg's scowl was nothing but fearful, moreover full of odd, almost calm savvy. And, the elder male's forthcoming hollow grunt truly created a few seconds' shocked stillness to linger after it.

"_You are not my son._"

"What?"

"I said -you miserable imitator- that you are _not_ my son."

The Shadow's brows sprung up. He was looking straight into Zora's slit-turned oculars now. _How was that man claiming things like that when everyone else around him had swallowed the lie, even that goody-doody twerp's wife?_ He did not want to break the spell of this amusing theatre. Thus, he attempted another sham, "And... what if I am? Hehehe, can't bear the fact that your son has selected the _other path_? I'm just following the glorious road of the Lightyear blood, nothing less. Hahahaha."

"Of course you may call yourself Buzz, but that does not make you my son..." the old man frowned, "You did not seem to enjoy impersonating anyone in your own universe, but here you fall to be just a pathetic juggling cavetroll who cannot even create unique ways of conquering the universe... Some supreme high commander... I should have understood it was _your_ lackbrained presence I felt within the raising peril of the Dark Side..."

The villain's jaw clicked so wide open, that a pigeon could have easily made a nest in his mouth. A light trepidation made a lurch in his stomach. _How could that weird man know? _How could he know his identity? He had not ever even _met _that mountain-sized bull before, had he? So, through the drained seas of Bathyos, how could he know what he had been in his own universe? What the heck was that bloke?

Nonetheless, Booster's pip broke the half-frightened pondering. "Y-y-you mean... that- that he's _not _Buzz?"

"Technically he _is_ Buzz. Just add the prefix _Evil_ and think about the conception of an alternate universe."

The Jo-Adian and XR both uttered an amazed _ooh_. Nova in Munchapper's arms produced a flabbergasted series of coughs.

Now that the Shadow's cover was thoroughly blown, he carelessly whisked away his theatrical attitude. "Fine, whatever. So let's say you low-browed mirebloods might be right. But..." he swept closer to the beetle-browed Emperor, "...what I don't understand is, that _how can you know? _Have we... met before?"

"I have had the regrettable pleasure to meet many individuals during my long life. And unfortunately 99,99% percent of them have been insufferable puffin-brained lack-wits such as you."

Evil Buzz measured the towering elder man from toes to crown. This uncanny person, whose stabbing grim gaze was glowering from beneath the shadows of his bushy brows, was so tall, that he had to hover over a foot above the floor to reach the same height. With a lopsided grimace, the villain tried finding rationality in the puddle of miry confusions.

"Lightyear wasn't even _supposed _to have a living father. I once heard one decayed emperor gloat how he had killed him. Am I talking to a ghost? And craters, what I still don't figure out, is that how in a blasted way did you know I was in the bush the one day you were demolishing Lightyear's front door?"

Zurg stared at him oddly an instant, and then burst out into a hoarse, croaking scorn-laughter. "Oh, indeed. That day. Rhorrh, _you_ ought to know what it is like to be the pawn of the Dark Side. You ought to know how it puts you to feel its rise and fall... mwahahah. So pathetic."

Evil Buzz could not perceive the full meaning of this jest. Only the cackle about the Dark Side had caught his hearing organs. Again, he made the crucial remark that there was the odd profundity sealed behind the dark-brown glower of that male. The lifestyle of a fluffy-feathered angel did not carve such a penetrating half-mad gaze into anyone. His eyes carried too strong signs of muffled anger and forcibly extinguished evilness.

_Had that half-giant been on the Dark Side?_ Millimeter by millimeter, the Shadow scrutinized Zora's face, looking for any familiar marks. Indeed... now as he carefully observed, there _was_ something dodgily familiar with Lightyear Senior. The way he pouted, the way his almost unnaturally long upper lip curved into that sardonic smirk... the histrionic, flowing, full-purple clothings he wore, that exact height... the way he used some certain adjectives in his semi-gloating vocalizations... lastly Evil Buzz remained to gawp at the cuff links of Zoxedaszeĉ's glossy shirt. He was still keeping his hands up in the air according to the command. But what was so special in those insignificant buttons? 

It was the finely engraved emblem on them, Zurg's infinite obsession, the letter Z. And there was only one, sole person in this cosmos who would carry such symbols...

Spit was gurgling out of Evil Buzz' maw, when the grasp illuminated his dark mind. It all matched, this male was nothing but the Evil Emperor Zurg, the final downfall of his universe. So, he was a human, and in addition a Lightyear? How on Mars was that blasted spoilsport here, with no traces of his face-hiding imperial uniform? Without the royal and his trans-dimensional warp, the mirror universe villain could have stayed safe and sound in his own galaxy and rule it with the devil's claw. Although it had been technically Buzz Lightyear who had ruined his homeworld, the devastation had all started from this pestilential emperor. He was stuck in this dimension because of him: there was no yellow brick road leading home.

_And that he was Buzz Lightyear's FATHER?_ And he was a form of Buzz Lightyear himself...

His mouth started belching out mind-splitting curses together with flying saliva. Evil Buzz repeated his every pondering aloud, so that the whole alleyway was echoing with blasphemies about Evil Emperor Zurg and the Lightyear inheritance.

"This is not true!" he bellowed, arms whacking the air, "You mean that the tetra-damned buckethead flipping burgers at Cosmo's is MY FATHER? NO! I won't believe it! This is not true! _NOOOOO_!" He ripped his beard in frenzy, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. "Quasars, I knew my family was nothing but worthless worms, but this is WORSE! Why wasn't my blood as noble as _your_ ancestry had? I had to toil and drag myself up from the pathetic, valueless crowd of cringing peasants obeying sniveling every possible law written! And you don't need to tell me what you did with your life! I can fairly well GUESS IT!" he shuddered with nausea, shaking the deadly staff in front of Zurg's nose, "You had it everything, dark glory and a magnificent inheritance with the purest Dark Blood family I have ever seen! I though the Dark Lightyear splendor had died in this universe, but it's almost worse this way! You are a blood-traitor! It would have been better for you to die as an evil emperor than to drag on your unbearable life as a family betrayer! I heard your empire went down and that you died, but oh yes, I can see the false image. I can guess it, you REFORMED, didn't you? Faked your death, huh? What?"

Booster, XR, and Mira were goggling at one another with sheer bafflement. Either Evil Buzz had thoroughly lost his last brain cells, or then they had badly missed some crucial point of the discussion. Also Zurg, for the first time, looked rather astonished. The glacier-cool mien had been a bit defrosted.

"What? Oh, oh, I get it. Stupidity follows stupidity. I had to explain hours to your feeble-minded son what his inheritance truly was. Hahaha, and that really made that twirp to tremble in his puny trousers, the story was too much to bear for such a devolved mudblood." And, sneeringly thundering, Evil Buzz recapitulated the story of Nex Crucio in front of the four wide-flown ocular pairs. Zora, then again, gradually adopted back the cold stability of solid nitrogen. It was, after all, nothing new for him to hear that there was more darkness beneath the forgotten centuries. He had assumed long enough that there was something wrong with the Lightyears. And this knowledge explained everything: the attraction to the Dark Side he had had since the cradle, the lore of the earth... it was just this fortress calling its heir to take the throne and continue to rule the revolting legacy. Buzz' struggle with the wrong path... all affirmed, all haze gone. 

Zora's severe serenity, if what, irked the wannabe-overlord. He wanted so much to put that old buffoon to squirm and shudder with mousy fear, but his narration seemed to have no effect whatsoever. The phenomenon in question had perfectly stung the rest of the gang though, but that gave the Shadow only a milligram of satisfaction.

"And now, it will be MY TURN to finally purify the Lightyear blood!" he threatened with his obsessive cliché-like roars, "My presence in this parallel universe has to have a meaning! It has to have, after all the losses I have suffered! So I will rise again! I will reinstate my might!" a manic, unsound gleam ignited in his rolling pupils. "You have such a blissful, untouched universe here... it exists there only so that I can pat it with my finger, and lay a beautiful necrosis onto it... HAHAHAHA! What are billions of killed people if I can annihilate perhaps trillions of them at once? I---"

It was Zurg who cut him short with a booming mock laughter. "Mwahahah, how pitiful. You trivial twithead. There is no glory in killing. It shall all backfire on you sooner or later. I was on the summit of my dark splendor as _I_ fell. And the fall was long, painful, excruciating. I came to find my mind shrieking with all those voices I had extinguished during my lordship. Still they come into my dreams, all those millions of innocent people I slaughtered... Their cry drives you slowly mad, you never can forgive yourself fully. Nobody can forgive fully such a thing. _Nothing_ is there to bring them back, whatever you try. And one day, I promise, you shall hear them all shrieking in your head too, unless that has already started. They wait... and hit, turn you insane. And... fortunately, the darkness has never taken an eternal grasp over anything. In the end, it all shall fall, the darkness shall be thrown into Tartarus and only the light shall prevail. Alpha and Omega is the light, never shall the evilness rule!" the old male orated with an almost blood-frosting, prophetic tone.

Thick smoke was coming out of Evil Buzz' cloak collars, as he boiled in his annoyance. The least he wanted to hear now was some hypocrite preaching about _humanity, _and his possible failure. No, he would not fail! He was perfect; he was the new shining crown of the Dark Lightyear inheritance!

"NO! I am the Alpha and the Omega! I came, I saw, I conquered! I will _never_ fall, I will come back in a form or another, and now I have again returned from near death. And this time, I am stable, I WILL NOT FAIL!"

"Mwah hah hah. Remember, little boy, you are just a pathetic mortal like everyone else."

"NO I AM NOT!" 

The triplet behind Zoxedaszeĉ was scowling at one another, exchanging whispers.

"He's sick."

"More twisted than a hundred Zurgs put together."

Mira added something to this quote with a voice lower than the feeblest thud of a single dust particle. Booster's expression was gaping with perplexity for a split second, but in a breeze, melted into discernment. He nudged the robot, winked, and prompted something.

"You worthless muck back there! Shut up when the heir of Nex Crucio speaks!" the Shadow addressed the trio, which had rustled in such a rude manner. "Now..." he went on, playing lightly with his viper cane, pointing it towards each intruder's chests in turn, as if measuring whom to terminate first. "Another unfortunate twist in my plans is that you got smashed here. I had everything in such a great, nefarious order. But..." he fingered his Van Dyke, "...now I should decide what to do with your valueless souls. I can get some fun with a few new torture puppets, but perhaps, perhaps, I could use you as my second ticket out of here. I was going to rely on the other Lightyear's help since he has quickly become my obedient servant... hehehe...  And you", he shook a glowed finger in front of Zora's nose, "You are more valuable than I thought, although you are just a mere blood-traitor. You know things beyond, your knowledge of the Dark Side seems to be vastly ahead of my own, I see it now... Perhaps you could share your knowledge---"

Abruptly Evil Buzz' tirade was cut short because of Mira's horrible coughing. Despite the respiratory aid she was wearing, she had begun inhaling as though her lungs had suddenly been full of cement. And, followed by that, her limbs began twitching with violent spasm, so that Booster had to concentrate hard on keeping her still.

"Now what?" the Shadow croaked, turning his eyes on the sudden sickness attack. "Can't you keep that darned chick still?"

But as if being egged on, Nova's terrible trembling only increased. Her breaths were nastily stridulous, and then, out of the blue, they just plain stopped. Her body turned utterly limp, as if all the life had suddenly been sucked out of her. Booster was forced to let her down onto the floor. The next wail came screeching from XR's mouth as he bent over her to analyze the morbid-feeling situation, 

"_Oh my goodness, there is no pulse_!"  

**...to be continued...** Comments?


	21. Switch of dominance

Evil Buzz stared at the sudden anarchy that had blazed up in the corridor. Even Zurg spun around, a deep scowl of immense hatred creeping on his aged visage. Booster and XR bustled around Mira, who was lying in an oddly warped position, slack as an empty flour sack. However, as the Shadow understood what was going on, his lip curled into a hideous, malignant smirk. Only such a demonic sadist as he could be _enjoying_ the morbid view. Sweeping towards the hubbub mountain, he cackled,

"Hehehehe. There you see what happens when a pathetic fool raises a finger against my supreme authority. Now, watch her rot... see what happens when death kisses you... because your souls will eventually shatter too and join the mortification of this galaxy... hahahaha." Distracted by the sick satisfaction, he stroked dreamily the fatal cane. His eyes had briefly caught a glazed, distant glint in them. His mind was wallowing in a land of lethal nightmares, his Black Eden... Dead beings sprawling under a roaring scarlet sky, the burned black ground grimacing under it...

Nonetheless... his dark joy fell to be imperfect. As the old emperor had supposed, there were _the screams_ hovering in the cavities of his mind too. At first there had been only a few of them, crawling tardily around his head, accusing...  Year by year the screeches had grown stronger, as the phantoms had begun multiplying almost exponentially. Their dissonance was sometimes utterly unbearable, as they howled piercingly about their devastation. 

So sang the souls of the innocent...

And he clogged his ears from their bawling lament. He still possessed the capability to freeze his icy inners near the absolute zero, turn to fight against the wail of those ghosts, and defeat them with the sharpened ax of his determination. This measure made the Dark Side drape him with ever more sackcloth evilness, while it drew him deeper, deeper into the endless pits of mental pandemonium. The more he suffocated the screams, the more the darkness devoured him from inside. It ripped apart his senses, leaving only an ill psychopath with satanic dreams instead.

As the Shadow lingered in his illusions, he did not notice how Mira on the floor opened very slightly one eye, and gave the tiniest wink to XR and Booster. The men responded with a petite nod, and instantaneously acted. Zap, the robot elongated his metallic arms, and succeeded to snatch the viper staff away from the menace's hold. Evil Buzz had held it rather light-heartedly the last few seconds. But this was enough for crafty space rangers to perform a quick action scene. The robed demon could only utter a hasty 'Wha?', before startling to notice how his game was over. In the fraction of a picosecond, Booster had jumped behind him and arrested his arms with a good, firm Jo-Adian grip. The Princess on the floor was taking long, wheezing inhales again. Lying still on her back, she gave a feeble thumbs-up to her teammates. They were both grinning broadly like a bunch of primary school kids who had just won the Junior League Cup in football. Zurg had halted his pose in mid-turn, surprised. The old emperor had possessed no idea lamp whatsoever about the schemes of his temporal minions. Now he was standing on one foot, his jaw verging the floor, his mug having such a lopsided expression that it looked as though his already overstretched upper lip had been dilated twice more. 

"Good job, boys!" the Tangean coughed, "The old Vogon Feint has never failed."

"Yeah, and it was Buzz who taught us that!" Booster yapped proudly. "Mira, XR, and I were just faking! We're space rangers, and we know the space ranger maneuvers!"

She took some support from her shaking elbows, squinting. Her voice came out slightly nasal due to the respiratory aid that was slapped over her face. "Ugh... craters, wasn't _that_ easy though. I though I'd start coughing any second, but good that you guys were so quick. Egh... I need a good holiday after this..." So she slumped back down, trying to relax.

Evil Buzz was hissing and squirming like an irritated rattlesnake. The sudden perception of being arrested was like a red-hot meteor being dropped onto his blockhead. He could not believe it, not an inch of it. His scene of victory had all been bluff?

"You... you... you tricked me?" A shower of saliva was flying in the air. "How dare you evanescent mortals defy my raising might? I am the apocalypse of this universe, and through my hands it shall fall! You can't oppose the dusk of your pathetic galaxy! You can't oppose the future, what I have foreseen it to conceal! I will..."

"...shut up now." Zurg gave an aloof sneer. "Grhoh. This just plucks my pigeons. Put that twerp to wear a muzzle or something. I do not wish to hear his pitiful yammer any longer." Face hardening back to the flinty, severe pout, Zurg tapped in front of Evil Buzz. "The future is always in move... clouded it is, you never can be sure how a sole, delicate string may alter the pattern of the whole tapestry. You may see glimpses of it, possibilities, but your whole anticipation can be swung upside down like my glorious imperial helmet which was turned into a flower pot by my wee teensy weensy Smoopsiepoo." Absent-mindedly, as though forgetting which planet and year it was, he whisked a claw-like hand to the space rangers. "Good work, grubs... I shall donate you extra muffins on the afternoon tea..." Next, Zora prodded a sharp fingertip between the Shadow's eyes, putting him squint. "Now we shall dig ourselves into the core. _Where is my son,_ you puny mallard-brain?"

"Why should I tell you? The force was supposed to be strong in you, but can't the blood-traitor _sense_ the goody-goody pipsqueak? Only the bad boys?" the villain smirked arrogantly.

"Mwahahah, you stupid birk. Why am I even wasting my time on you, trying to explain things that are too large for your bean-sized brains... The force works in complex ways; you cannot make it your myrmidon. And, seems that you are even more pathetically distracted than I ever knew. My son is rather far away from an innocent dove of peace. He turned to the Dark Side just a tad before my Empire fell, but was able to unlock its nefarious chains on his own. Hmpf. I have feared he might eventually become something like you... now with the utmost concern since I now surely know what the Lightyear blood is."

There was a brief silence in the dark vault. Dust particles faintly flitted and glimmered in the rim of XR's spotlight. The black, empty doorways stared at the small crowd like the hollow eye sockets of some gigantic scull. Mira, Booster, and the mecha had not thoroughly registered the vile saga about the Lightyear ancestors, but started gradually fully comprehending it. A frosty shudder went through the spines of those aliens. So, here they stood, inside a horrible inheritance. It gave a well-knitted impression about the curse flowing in their ex-captain's veins. Had all Buzz' forefathers been just like Zurg, or even worse? How deep inside the past's abysses did the path of darkness lead? Also the callous discussion, about the howls of deceased conjuring one's mind, poured ice water down their collars. The old man rarely talked about his past crimes and how they presently affected him. Mira and Booster were young; they were not even born when Zoxedaszeĉ had taken his throne. Thus they could not be aware of all the savagery that besmeared the ground with crimson blots. Yet, the recent conversation definitely depicted rather gruesomely what kind of keepsakes the eldest Lightyear had to bear. 

Zurg's bass voice was soon again echoing in the ancient archway, as he gave another hollow cackle. "'The Dark Lightyear blood', about which you puny twerp have been glibbering all the time, has not died nor perished. But if it depends on _me_, there shall be no new heir of the Dark Side raising from this family. I shall make sure that my son never descends there, never again. And he shall not become your servant either. Indeed, your Dark Lord fantasies shall fall into the ashes, _if it depends on me_. I am unfortunate to notice that my supreme intelligence has been itty bitty slow, but yet I am beginning to comprehend the message of my nightmares. They have been _warnings_, not yet quite the thing the future might possess. They have given out the alternative of what might happen if a rubber-duck-witted twit like you had gotten the upper hand of the tides. But if it depends on me and this moment, your presumable rise as the new Dark Lord is washed away, just like once my grubs used wrong detergent onto my brilliantly purple robes and the whole laundry turned pink." He eyed at Evil Buzz from under his bushy black brows. "I was warned; I was made to see the disgusting options. However... now you puny bluebottle are trapped in spider's web, and the old coot of Star Command knows where we have gone. This Tangean", he pointed at Mira, "succeeded to send a distress signal which we followed. Besides... there is a big molten hole in the ground, out there, leading here. You have to be a blind bream if you do not spot it. Muhahah. We are just generally waiting for backup."

The Shadow's sardonic simper had died. Only there was this half-shocked gawp painted instead. Zurg's roaming gibbering about dreams, predictions, and the real Buzz' troubles had worked well as the gag the Emperor had requested earlier. There was something weirdly dreadful in the old man, both in his appearance and in his uncanny mentality. Zoxedaszeĉ was perhaps the only person _he_ had ever feared. This was quite a contrast since usually every alien was miserably cringing in front of the mirror universe foe.

Zurg's jabber went on, "So, you shall not tell us where you have trapped my son? How pathetic an attempt to shatter our hopes. The Tangean is probably not having the energy to do mind-probes, but... or?"

"Eh... sorry, but I'm feeling pretty much like boiled spaghetti..." Nova coughed, "But I know a bit about this place since I wandered quite long down there. There are huge dungeons with maybe hundreds of cells several floors below us, and they're controlled with some kind of surveillance cameras... or so I think. At least that guy was able to follow my course. He must have some sort of monitor through which he can see what's down there. And undoubtedly the _real_ Buzz and his wife are somewhere in those same cells. So maybe we can use the surveillance stuff to find them." Sorrow shaded her tone, "But... I have no idea what he has done to them. It... it has sounded like the Kalevan woman might be dead."

Whereas Booster and Mira merely sweatdropped to the latter notion, Zurg was keeping his bushy head cool. "Not likely. I can fully see through this lack-wit's flimsy stereotypical strategy. I would be able to see through it even without the parchments that told the whole thing already. Hmf. So predictable and unoriginal. Buzz has been his marionette mainly because my son is afraid this tufted duck might harm the Kalevan. So logically she is alive. And now... you, hornet... erm, XR, check out his pockets. He might be hiding there just the answer we need."

The extragalactic antagonist had been so far floating in mid-air with his hover boots, Booster pinching him as though he had been an especially nauseous insect in tweezers. However, as the Jo-Adian was pushing Evil Buzz down for investigation, the robed male began whimpering in pain and gurgling some mantra about his withered legs. A brief study affirmed that he indeed lacked the ability to stand and walk on his own. But nothing hindered the checking of his pockets, although he remained aloft.

The non-criminal pickpocketing indeed revealed interesting secrets. While XR was goggling at the invisibility cloak, throwing in some sarcasms about corny children's fantasy books and how people should stop taking them too seriously, Zurg was inspecting the portable spyscreen in his skeletal hands.

"Anything else? Is he hiding a wand or a collapsible broomstick there too? Or a cauldron? I wouldn't be surprised to see a spell book sticking out of his breast pocket either", the robot mused.

"Hymm..." the Emperor kept twiddling with the monitor, "I think we shall stop pottering with those other futile accessories... I am quite positive I have found what we need... only you shall check out that this nitwit is not hiding any more weapons." Not even a blink passed, and Zurg had put the screen to display very intriguing facts. The thingamabob showed a perfect map of the immense Nex Crucio fortress, complete with zooming abilities. Snap, and he dug up the very same corridor where the quintet was lodging. The screen viewed the scene from bird's eye view, currently exhibiting a shrubbery of black hair as Zora had zoomed in too much onto himself. As egoistic idiots never can be less egoistic idiots, he traditionally took a pithy evaluation of himself, picked up a comb from his pocket and started brushing the bush. This would have probably lasted beyond infinities, unless Mira had ceased the absurdity by uttering a sharp comment that this was not a barber's shop.

"Humm... indeed. My glorious hair just looked a tad windswept... hrhrm. My apologies."

Thus the monitor was put in a far more rational use. It appeared that the core of this whole complex was just a short distance away along this same corridor. Thus they decided to trot over there and settle down for a while. Raking this immense subterranean behemoth was not a nanosecond's work. And as there seemed to be more comfortable quarters ahead than just a moldy dusty corridor, there was no reason to grow roots here. Also, the space rangers could perhaps contact Nebula via those console panels that jutted in the colossal oval main room. All the wristcoms were namely still as mute as rotten cauliflowers.

"Anything with which we could tie up this humbugger?"

"No problemo. Now, say hasta la vista to your Dark Lordship." XR drew forth a pair of Star Command ionized handcuffs from his inners, and clamped Evil Buzz' wrists with them from the front. A plasma-forced rope was attached to them and the android took a good grip of its other end. Thus, the team set their toes towards the main chambers, Mira back up in Booster's arms, and XR dragging the cursing and hissing Shadow as though he had been a giant, grotesque balloon.

Still, the atmosphere was far away from cheerful. The gothic corridor in the bowels of earth looked merely like hell's courtyard. Their every step clanked hollowly in the archway, singing together with the black lore of this horrible history. More thunderclouds gathered to overshadow the tenor, as the squad arrived inside a round atrium. Like everywhere, the scarlet and golden tapestry shreds sung about the ancient pomp, but in this room they rhymed darkly with a second canto. Natural-sized marble effigies circulated the walls, squatting in their own embowed alcoves. They depicted human men, apparently the most important members of the cult. Coldly their dead, haughty eyes stared down at the intruders that had broken their centennial sleep. All the stone figures had a similar, sepulchrally evil, inhuman frown on their faces. And... the space rangers dared not to pip a syllable in the shadow of the glum Zurg. The old emperor had perfectly noticed _what_ glared down at him: several of those statues carried facial features almost identical to his, complete with the clefts on their hard chins. Zora's heart was burning with atrocious guilt and shame. This cursed inheritance only reminded him of the souls he had erased permanently from the galactic map. Was he now forced to carry even the sins of his forefathers besides the damned blood? 

No... he would not surrender and become the past's slave. He had not committed those ancient deeds; he had no part in their memento. His own burden was enough for one weak mortal to drag.

Hence, he straightened his temporarily hunched pose, prodding a proud, imperial nose upwards. From this gesture Mira, Booster, and XR knew he had at least partly overcome the inner traumas. So Munchapper risked to light up the silenced conversation.

"Umm... Mr. Lightyear? Can I ask... how did you know it was Evil Buzz and not the real Buzz behind this all? I mean... we all though it was him! I mean, we thought it was Buzz, but not the other Buzz, umm..." the concept went over his IQ.

"Hmph", Zurg grunted, "I find your lack of faith disturbing. Your minds are too weak to see the difference. There was a disturbance in the balance, and this presence I had not felt since... since I got lost in the mirror universe years ago. And to be frank... a tiny piece in your trivial balderdash about my son's beard", he peered at the male ranger duo, "awoke me to think of certain possibilities. Everything of course became affirmed as I met that insufferable widgeon eye to eye. Even _you_, although you mostly are feeble pathetic snivelers, should see _what his eyes are like_. Although my son was in the Dark Side, he never had _that _kind ofsick, inane gleam in them. Always watch the eyes; they are the soul's mirror. I... I remember when I first met that twirp... I thought he was a dolt joke whipped up by the holographic warfare boys. But, it was partly that psychotic glint in his eyes that made me understand it was not my ninny son or his holograph after all. That, and of course the presence of the Dark Side. And a raygun pointing at my head", he added with an undertone.

"Easy for you to say. We all though this mockingbird was dead", the mecha hummed.

"Never suspect a sneaky villain to be dead unless you can be five hundred percent sure."

****

After the atrium and a set of short passages, the pentad stepped inside the core chambers. The space was littered with partly restored furniture, patched curtains, slightly reeking unwashed clothings, and parchment rags. Tattered books were sprawling open among half-eaten sandwiches, used bandages and medicine ampoules were heaped on rickety tables. Generally the place looked like a bad travesty of landfill. The good-side quartet did not astonish Evil Buzz' walking troubles any longer. All those pharmaceutical knickknacks clearly told he had trouble also elsewhere than under his cranium. All this jumble basked in the orbs of a few sickly green lanterns. Overall, there was nothing cozy in this repugnant hole.

Nonetheless, here the troopers laid their hinterlands. Mira was put to rest on a sofa, which spat out a dust cloud as dense as London fog, when someone sat on it. The vastest dilemmas were encountered with the Shadow. He started caterwauling like a maltreated tomcat when Booster tried to tie him in a chair. Ferociously vociferating, the Shadow squealed something about coxalgy and how his lower back hardly supported the weight of his overly-buffed thorax. So, the only option was to let him sulk and hover in a nearby corner.

Zurg had fast attached his dark eyes at the large device console that towered over the sundry trash. As he was not only just a self-proclaimed genius, but a genuine one, he in a breeze had comprehended that this controller was obviously supervising the whole subsurface leviathan. After he had plugged the portable spyscreen back into its slot, he let his long thin fingers dance on the various keyboards. This made the whole control panel waltz. It hummed, buzzed, and vibrated, and umpteen larger screens on its surface blazed into life. Evil Buzz was goggling at the panorama petrified. The ex-emperor was doing tricks in minutes he had not figured out during his whole lodging down here. He had also believed that warming up those cobwebbed gizmos would take far more time units than just a few blinks. That infernal blood-traitor was just so tremendously dodgy.

The newly kindled monitors near the ceiling were so large that they presented clearly their pictures even to the remotest parts of the oval cove, excluding the fact that they were flickering after their long slumber like malfunctioning oscilloscopes. However, perhaps Zurg would be able to scan through the fortress quicker if he had more than just one peephole down to the stomach of this stone gorgon.

*****

Blib, blib, beep, bleep, the blinking lights and buttons played their symphony. Mira relaxed on the sofa, gnawing some snack stolen from Evil Buzz' food stocks. The antihistamines and cortisone that XR had given her as first aid, were efficiently healing her lungs. The coughing had ceased, and her worst bruises had been bandaged. Nova had also collected a tiny amount of energy so that she rather sat than invalidly lounged on her back. Nonetheless, she was miles away from any healthy state. If this Tartarus ever would belch her out into the sweet daylight, the Princess would flit straight to hospital.

Zurg had reached the blue cells with his noveau candid camera set. The software was scanning the cubicles so, that every monitor snuffled a different compartment. Room after room, the eerie cubes flickered on the screens. That monotonous indigo shimmer was painstakingly depressing. Nobody wanted to know why those myriads of dull boxes were built down there. The only task was to locate Buzz and Yoka, and any other captives there might be.

Suddenly a horrid image on one monitor made the tetrad flinch on their spots. The zoomed-in picture was displaying a large pile of grayed humanoid sculls grimacing at them. Why there was a heap of loose dead heads dumped in one of those revolting rooms, remained without an answer. Wiping sweat off his forehead, Zora clicked the disgusting vista away.

Evil Buzz' silent sniggers could be heard in the background. He obviously enjoyed immensely their abrupt fright.

"Can't you look death into its eyes? Hehehe. Even the grand Emperor Zurg is quivering in his puny pants like his frail-minded son... Can't after all bear your legacy? Remember, you shiny butterflies... you will join those too some day, rot, get eaten by worms... hahahaha... I only could have made it happen _sooner_, and perhaps will---" His ill drawling was shredded to atoms as he unexpectedly noticed Zurg's fierce figure soaring inches in front of him. Such a furious, thunderous mien he had never seen before on Zora's grooved visage. Even the grim reaper himself would have had a hard time to compete with the frostiness that starched his mad gaze. His bass voice exceptionally adopted a silky, whispering tone instead of the traditional bellow-your-lungs-out bluster. This was suited to color the instant even more ghostlike.

"I have looked death into its eyes... I have seen it lowering its hood, revealing its putrid face, smelled the stench of its rancid breath... I took its form too many times, grabbed the scythe, ripped souls apart, celebrated the harvest of doom... All over again, all over again... Then the parts suddenly changed, unexpectedly. It was _I_, who stood in front of death as its next prey. Its breath's fetid stench prickled in my lungs, suffocating me... there were no mercy in its blank eyes... and then I understood how all those innocent beings that had died in my hands, had seen me... how they had tried to beg mercy, how they had prayed me to save their feeble flames of life... I gave no mercy. And neither would be given mercy to _me_, as the parts had suddenly turned upside down. I, in my greatest might, was made to beg and pray just like _them_..."

Zurg's glazed eyes glowered unblinkingly at Evil Buzz.

"There is no beauty, no glory to dress up in death's robes. And when _you_ someday meet its shadowed skeleton, sniff its putrid breath, you will beg and pray too... and maybe it shall not save you as it oddly did let me live. I would have deserved the perdition, but perhaps there is some higher reason it turned away from me and vanished. But, be warned... in front of it, you have no supremacy. Your might shall perish to dust. From ashes you have born, and into ashes _even you_ shall return."

A saturnine silence had been dropped over the vault. Mira, Booster, and XR were staring open-mouthed at the old man who was radiating some sort of mind-numbing coldness. But Zurg had finished his diphthongs. He turned about on his heels and stomped back to the console.

Zora's gnarled fingers seemed to have achieved trice more speed as they jazzed on the keyboard, switching the cells in a blur of blue light. The monitors puked up a few more skeleton rooms, which were switched quickly away. The chamber still bathed in total silence, not even the Shadow sneered in his puny hole any longer. He had moreover fallen into an uncannily fossilized state, as though he had truly become shocked during Zora's harangue.

And the screens continued their tedious travel along the cubicles. Had they no end at all? Where were Buzz and Yoka? Or had the infinite crypt thoroughly devoured them, concealing them inside the mould for forever?

More to come. Comments?


	22. Down in the dungeons

Fusty silence had taken the throne in the Nex Crucio fortress. After Zora's hissing about his past horrors, everyone was feeling as though they had tennis balls stuck in their throats. The blue dullness kept whipping the monitors. Another skeleton room grimaced evilly in the screen. Zurg's fist banged the switcher, and the disgusting vista was instantly banished. His ever gloomier-growing mind did not want to meet any more mortuaries. 

Ten or so cubicles had whizzed past, when Mira's voice abruptly rang behind him.

"Hey, hey, wait! Can you go back to the room where the skeleton was sitting against the wall? Um, well, I _think_ I saw something, something else than the-- eh... old bodies. Well... uh, not _completely_ sure, but I eh..."

A bit aversely, the grumpy Emperor rewound the software. Soon the particular cubicle was flickering morbidly in one of the ceiling monitors.

"There, look! Can you zoom in to the very left corner?"

The squad gasped, as the camera crawled inside the darkest nook of the cell. There was a man crouching on the floor, hugging his knees, trembling all over as though an invisible washing machine had been milling him. His solidified mien told that seemingly every byte of reason had been sucked out of his brains. His eyes were staring irrationally at some distant nook, as though that remote target had been the only spot where they could find a fragment of rest.

"It's Buzz!" A choir of comprehension chimed in the vault. If it were not for Mira's quick remark, the rescue troop would have perhaps never found the Captain in the crypt's bowels.

"Sniveling quasars!" Zurg bellowed, "We have to get him out of there, he is bonkers! My son is so chipmunk-brained already; he does not need to reach the amoeba level. And it looks like that his twerp fake twin has shrunk Buzz' puny scull at least fifty percent."

Zora was to dive towards the cabin's entrance, obviously willing to rush straight down to the dungeons. But XR halted him halfway, hawking,

"Hey hey, has the gloriously ultra-intelligent overlord forgotten a few things, or is His Supremely Mighty Bucketheadness just a plain buckethead? Hello? You didn't even check out the location of the nice salon where Buzz is having his joyful holiday. And..."

"...we have to find the Kalevan too. I think it's best we go and get them out of there the same time", Nova cut in, knowing the robot might slip something controversial when it came to mentioning females. "And uh... don't start quarreling about my state, but... I think it's best that XR and I go down there."

"What? _YOU_? But..." the three men exclaimed simultaneously.

"I know, I know, I'm nothing but OK. But since the backup hasn't arrived yet, we need strong guys to keep an eye on Evil Buzz while someone goes down... grhgghhh... ghorgh..." a cacophony of unpromising coughs burst out of her mouth, while she clamped her arms to hold her ribs. Briefly surviving from the dilemma, she added, "Ugh... look, I can go if XR gets me a hover chair so I can sit, or something. And I got the gas mask. Okay? And there shouldn't be any real danger down there. We've seen Evil Buzz has no henchmen whatsoever. He's completely alone."

But the android had become one huge exclamation mark expressing rebel stronger than the French Revolution. "What do you mean I'm _not_ a guy? Or a strong one? I got bigger biceps than that purple Hulk Hogan -wannabe!" The nutty robot began flexing his metallic arms as though he had flirted with 42. Mira rolled her eyes. It was sometimes so infernally hard to bang sense inside those insane microchips.

"I'm _not _doubting your ability to be a bigheaded showoff", she sighed "But there may be obstacles or locks only you can open. And I'm _not_ sending you there alone. Don't even bother to ask why."

There were many barrels full of sense in the Princess' gibbering, although it sounded very foolhardy for her to take part in even petite adventures. The dillydallying of the backup slightly worried the quartet, though. They had been able to contact Commander Nebula via the age-old com devices, yet had lost the connections quite too soon. But meanwhile the channels had been open, the situation had been clarified, and the old moustache-man had literally fallen off from his seat with thunderstruck. After Zeb had found his chair again, he had been more morose than ever. One evident reason to this was that the male he regarded as a doating onionhead, had been more than 200% right with his assumptions. In any case, the Commander had promised to send troops swiftly, especially when hearing that Evil Buzz Lightyear, by some obscure reason, had risen up from the oblivion. Half-invalid or not, such a snaky foe needed a good heap of custodians around him. The same the Tangean tried to explain initially.

Obviously more than just a few nanodiodes had busted inside the medieval gadgets. So it was no wonder why the satellite connections faded away and left only cosmic radiation to crackle in the amplifiers. Then again, the distorting force fields around the cursed fortress were working almost irritatingly well, and made furthermore the wristcoms tongue-tied.

Murmuring sulkily, Zurg slouched back at the console to continue the irksomely brain-curtailing cube-swap. As the robot ranger had scribbled down the coordinates of Buzz' burrow, the search went on. And it did not require a million years to locate Yoka-hanen's cell. Yet, the view was not promising at all. The camera displayed her sprawling on the floor, but that was merely all the monitor barfed out. The girl was obviously alive since she was breathing. Yet, the Kalevan was reclining back against the surveillance, so her face was hidden. The ripped clothes and the tangled heap of matted hair still narrated their own unpleasant story... No nurture or care could be expected from the demonic mirror universe menace.

Presently the sick psychopath was hovering in his corner, looking like an oversized and extremely ugly bat. His vile blue eyes under the shadowy brows sparkled with fury. Apparently his dark heart was gradually surviving from the temporal stupor Zurg had given it. Nobody quite paid attention how his scowl kept measuring the room, there and then hitting the viper cane that was held every now and then by a different person.

_He was not going to surrender to that evanescent scum... There still had to be an open gate to freedom and new glory..._

The scan software was moaning. No more cubes were left, and they hid only two prisoners who still possessed the wisp of life. Although both Zurg and Booster furthermore opposed Mira's stubbornness, she and XR were preparing to descent into the stomach of this subterranean whale like two Jonahs. As the tin man's inners were fighting against all known physical laws, containing vastly more junk than naturally could be crammed inside such a minute space, it was no wonder he could conjure up a nice collapsible, remote-controlled hover chair for the Princess. The only thing she needed to do, was to move her fingers a bit on a feathertouch pad, and the seat would fly to Mars if she wished. Zurg slapped the portable monitor in XR's hand, so that they could keep in touch while the adventure to the center of the earth advanced. Thus, the duo flitted out of the room, following the map on the screen. There would be umpteen escalators ahead, sneering at them with their moldy walls.

*****

_It stared at him, mocked him. Ceaselessly. With its inhuman, hollow eyes. It was as though it had been the embodiment of the Utmost Evil itself. Wherever he tried turning his eyes, it always seemed stealing glances at him, sideways, sneakily... its lopsided, grayed jawbone hanging in a devilish scoff... It mocked all the goodness, the light... Light had probably never embraced this deceased man even in the days of its existence..._

_His curse...__ All his life he had basked in the false illusion of honor... he carried nothing honorable in his veins...Only darkness..._

Buzz crouched in the furthest nook of his cell, back glued against the craggy wall. Madness was burning in his inners, disbelief, horror, terror against the past and the future. Present did not exist; there was only the rumbling tumult of chaos racing through the infinities. He wanted to run away, fly away, make his eyes blind and ears deaf to this, immune to the shock that had made his every emotion bleed... The earth had been crushed from under his feet, and he was only falling, falling, falling...

The shock of finding out that his cherished family was nothing but a myriad of Dark Side's pawns, was almost as horrible as discovering the truth about his father. And, this very moment, how it bathed in sheer anarchy... Evil Buzz out there, forcing him to obey humbly his every sick command... and _she_... Yoka... There was no coherent thread in Buzz Lightyear's awareness. Every nightmare-like reflexion was merging into a great, dark cloud of perturbation, where reason had neither place nor authority. This made it impossible for the Captain to think anything clearly.

Mind-splitting confusion and panic always have secondary ghosts pursuing them. Buzz was no superstitious, but somehow he had grown utterly afraid of those two skeletons sharing the cube with him. He should have understood they were nothing but empty shells of decayed humans, nothing that could have harmed him. But in his perturbed illusions, they were _alive_, those inhuman slaves of the Dark Side. Especially the carcass leaning against the wall, Jardaz Lightyear, was the very worst personification of his terror.

Oh, the innocent, naïve curiosity that had filled Buzz when he had flipped through the Lightyear holo-photo album, and dashed against the ancient holograph picturing the two snobby-looking brothers in their velvets and frills. Oh, how there had been the thrill of adventure hovering above the picture, concealing the mysterious disappearance of these two respectable family members...

_Respectable_? Just as respectable as Mizar and his enigma. Buzz initially wished he would have never heard about these sagas of darkness, nor asked... Ignorance in all its dullness would have been such a heavenly bliss.

_His mother's lullaby was fluttering above the screaming disbeliefs..._But it did not soothe, like it tens of years ago had lulled the wee toddler asleep. Now, it remained there as a horrid poltergeist risen up from his most profound subliminal chasms.

It seemed that the more this Lightyear descendant was forced to hear hidden family atrocities, the more his sore mind became injured. Buzz' subconscious began hustling out memories that normally would remain doggo. At first the fidgety hallucination of the young woman curling her hair... Then, as the Morphean had fallen yesterday inside his restless incubus, more long-forgotten subliminal gremlins had been dug out.

_The screams..._He still could not fully understand what they were. The woman, whom he knew now to be his deceased mother, had been pleading to save her life...

_Was he hearing the last moments of his mother howling inside his scull?_

But that was impossible. He truly could not. Or... _could he?_

But had not his father told that he had been asleep, snoozing in a whole different room, when the assassins had ended the course of the poor Adi? Had not that saved his frail existence, the sanctuary of his cradle? But could his wee mind through the curtains of sleep have still _heard_, however faintly, the miserable end of one young soul?

He rocked his body back and forth, stuttering aloud half-incoherent mumbles. He wanted that lullaby to cease, he wanted Jardaz to stop his dead, mocking stare... no, it was all too much to bear... And where to shift the thoughts? To Evil Buzz and his future plans? He was his cringing puppet, he had to be ready to serve the Dark Master... with appalling consequences, if he did not obey. The vile twin wanted away from this planet, and it would be up to the space ranger to arrange his flee and new rise...

He wanted to scream aloud...

Abruptly, through the chaotic cerebral miasma churning anteriorly his vision, he saw the wall sliding open with a hollow rattle. Was the ghoul coming again to torture him...?

Buzz actually had to rub his eyes several times with both fists and pick his ears clean from earwax, before grasping who stood behind the bars. Jaw drooping listlessly open, he for a few seconds watched how a very familiar-looking robot was breaking the locks of the grating, another very familiar figure of a blue woman hovering in a chair beside it. The air was oozing with burning alloy, and finally, even the heavy bars were escaping from the view.

"Eygh. Cheerful company, eh?" XR launched his entrée sarcasm, leering at the skeletons. "Ok let's say I sometimes prefer silent roommates, but not actually _this_ silent."

Mira's frown made the bigmouth mecha shut up. "Buzz, are you all right?" She hovered nearer the petrified male, who still recoiled in the cranny like a cockroach fleeing light.

Buzz' twitchy mouth blurted a few times something that sounded like 'agagagagaga', before rediscovering his English skills. 

"_MIRA?__ XR? _How... h-how..."

"Long story. Will take a hundred years to tell", the robot confirmed. "If I just say it involves one darkside-paranoid ex-emperor and a lot of bawling, you should get the point."

Nova evaluated at Lightyear with concern, since the man had not yet lifted even a quarter of a leg up. "You okay? Can you walk? It's a bit of a long ascending and well... we still should try and find your wife. Your cell was nearer so we came here first."

His maw still hanging open, the addressed male arduously scampered up, yet grimacing with pain. His muscles were furthermore throbbing stingingly after the several plasma-laser shots he had received. His Pulsar 3000 Envirosuit had reedy holes here and there, but it was stellar amounts of more intact than Mira's almost molten one. Buzz eyed just as suspiciously at the girl as she did goggle at him. As there were different levels of suit wreckage, there were diverse physical conditions. The male at least was able to walk, and did not need to wear oxygen respirators.

Confusion spanked the Morphean even more ailingly. What on Mercury had happened? He had once arrived here in order to rescue the Tangean and Yoka, but initially everything seemed to be thoroughly upsy-daisy. Mira could well read his bamboozled mien, adding to the android's gibbering, "Your father's up there. He brought XR and Booster along and arrested the umm... you know Evil Buzz Lightyear was behind this, right?"

"Uhh... yeah."

Nova coughed, a slight puce tint warming up her cheeks. "Erm... I thought it was _you_ who lured me here... and uhh..." she was to include 'tried to kill me', but clogged her tongue and only piped a small 'sorry'.

Buzz had gotten finally on his feet, taking support from the sooty wall. His whole left side felt nastily floppy, and his knees kept having a jellyish sensation in them. The blue room was lightly spinning in his vision. XR offered him a walking stick as though the Captain had been a 200-year-old grandpa.

"I hope we're not taking these chums with us too", the chatterbox made a mow at the skeletons, wondering the slight familiarity in the low-browed and big-jawed skulls. "Have I met them before? They remind me of something... no... couldn't have met them, they look as old as Jedi Master Yoda. Hmh. Maybe I have a busted association sensor."

"You have met them, in a way..." Lightyear glared grimly, not quite fancying the robot's joking attitude, "You see the descendant of their shame in front of you." Part of the bewilderment was now erupting as self-reproaches, making Buzz bury his face briefly in his hands. "I'm nothing but filth! Horrible filth who has nothing but the legacy of killers and diabolical monsters inside him!" As he lifted his visage back up, embarrassment and hatred were warping his expression. "Everyone is just like Zurg! And those..."

But Mira put up a hand to hush the bluster. "Buzz, we know, and we're sorry about it. We're not accusing you about anything. Let's get away from here."

It definitely did not need more roaming driveling to comprehend that those nasty mummies were his ancestors, and that Evil Buzz had dumped his mirror universe twin in the same chamber with them just to scare the living meteors out of him. Typical atrocity propaganda of the ruthless psychopath. Not once glancing back, Lightyear limped out of the chamber of terrors with his rescuers.

The stone wall was sliding back into its slot, leaving Jardaz and Zoxewa to decay in their eternal tomb. The moment the mural clicked shut with a forceful thud, the sitting skeleton crackled broken and collapsed on the flagstones. It did not stare or cackle any longer... only a faint dust cloud hovered above it for a while, before the ill cubicle sunk into a black silence.

******

The stale vault was getting narrower again. The battered, descending escalators were slippery with moss and fungi. This compartment looked shabbier than any of the other dungeons so far. XR's spotlight showed how bricks had fallen out of the grained walls. Contrary to Evil Buzz' beliefs about the everlasting durability of this place, time was indeed getting the upper hand of it.

And this lair of terrors earned to rot, to perish away...

XR was keeping contact with Zurg via the portable screen. The triplet was limping, rolling, and hovering towards Yoka's cube, which was situated a few floors below Buzz' one. Nonetheless, it appeared that the surveillance system had some defects in these parts of the rock titan. Thus the map was not all that glass clear. The cell number was known, but the corridor where it was supposed to crouch, was initially lost. So the searchers kept meandering in false archways, finding only a mildewy billion of cul-de-sacs. As Mira had experienced before, all those 'guide plates' on the murals were so patinated and worn-out, that they helped the team as much as a bottle of flower perfume aided fighting killer bees .

During the wandering, Nova and the robot summarized the happenings, and Buzz briefly detailed what his foe had plotted. He found unpleasant squirms going down his back, as he thought how he during the infernal trouble time had neglected all the aid Zora and co. had offered. Yet, the uncanny obscurity fluttering around his father was there to amaze the most. The expectations of a new Dark Lord raising, how he had known that Buzz had fallen back to the Dark Side while being lost in Kaleva... The younger Lightyear felt odd, unexplainable shame in his heart, not having courage to peek into the monitor himself and see his father's severe face. Apparently huge scolds were waiting for him up there... On the other hand, Buzz' indebtedness was only accumulating. If it was not for Zurg, he had never been healed by tha-grydda... if it was not for Zurg, the whole fight against the extragalactic blobs and their horrid starfleet had probably gone down the toilet... if it was not for Zurg, he would still be languishing with his mummified ancestors... Although he felt such embarrassment, he would probably dash to hug his father tight as soon as they would rise up from this ¦eol.

Then his whacked-up synapses recalled the aim of this searching. Yoka... he was going to meet her again, close her in his arms, kiss her until she would faint... A jubilant warmth streamed in his chest, pushing aside all the sepulchral coldness. The first feeble smile lit up his face.

Nonetheless, Mira's next sentence shattered the transient illusions, as though she had read his mind. "Umm... I'm sorry to say, but we really don't know how your wife is. She didn't look well in the monitor."

Lightyear's visage sunk back in its previous glumness.

_Confusion, confusion..._

The corridor was branching off again into two diverse directions. A small brazen plaque below an empty torch holster was trying to explain something with unreadable scribbles. This seemed to be the very rear part of the compartment: the triplet had snuffed every other crypt so far. Buzz' nervousness was growing faster than an exponential function; he wanted to find his wife with any cost. Due to his antsy anticipations, Mira made a compromise.

"XR, lend us a lantern and we'll take this second tunnel with Buzz. You take the left one." So, they selected separate paths. After a few minutes of strolling, the invalids had luck. At the rear end of the narrow passage gleamed a phosphorescent plate with number 144000 splatted on it. This was again one of the curiosities of this place's architecture: cell numbers were clear as starlight, whereas all other signposts were as readable as Klingon upside down. The same applied to the umpteen staircases: a simple elevator structure would have caused a lot less aching legs. But who knew, perhaps the ancient cult had had its reasons for this kind of tangled complexity.

Ants were teeming down Buzz's spine; a titanium band was strangling his throat. He stopped anteriorly the heavily sealed stone door, panting slightly due to the air's extreme mustiness. The all-purpose laser cutter XR had tossed him, was slipping in his sweaty hands. But he managed to activate it, and soon the air was sizzling with the sounds of melting metal. Crack, and the sliding wall's lock gave in. After a few tugs, the mural began rattling tardily aside. Lightyear merely squirmed on his spot, biting his lips, ready to lunge inside when there would be a gap big enough for his broad shoulders. He so sorely missed his dearest; he just wanted to carry her out of this nightmare...

However, as Yoka's cubicle came into a better view, something rather unexpected happened. Buzz had had the impression, just as Mira had told, that the girl would be comatosely sprawling somewhere there in the dust, ready to be collected up. Nonetheless, the man felt a blindingly painful jolt in his stomach as he entered the cube. He hasped wheezingly for breath, awakening a split second later to hear Mira's yelp,

"Look out!"

A brown, miry heel zoomed millimeters past his chin as he ducked. Horrible falsetto screech followed, beginning to thunder in the hollow archway with hundreds of echoes. The space ranger duo perching in the now full-open doorway met the rickety's source face to face.

It was the Kalevan woman, swaying in the middle of the room, looking absolutely awful. She was backing towards the rear wall like some panic-struck animal, squealing incomprehensible curses with her own language. The Indian's wrists were tied behind her back, but she had ripped violently the ankle ropes to shreds, thus being able to stand. She was using the last crumbs of her stamina to storm like a rampaging rhino. Yoka-hanen apparently was somewhat afraid of Nova's bizarre appearance, because she had no courage to kick-attack again. Perhaps that hovering creature was hiding some disgusting torture devices inside that flying chair and war mask. 

White smog lingered anteriorly her eyes. _No no, not the pain again..._ Not again... hour after hour, day after day, excruciating wrench... This was the eternal _Tuonela_, where the minds became rotten and hope perished.  She did not want to sense what was coming, she did not want to see anymore, not hear, not suffer. Perhaps it would have been better, if she had gone away together with her _emo, _sunken into the oblivion instead of rising up above the clouds with those glistening white carriages. Beautiful cream-coated falsity was everything. The carriages had landed straight anteriorly the gates of _Manala_. That man, or demon, or whatever, to whom her father had given her, had to be the _Mana_, the _Perkele_ himself. The Dark Prince of his underworld kingdom... and again he was there, ready to pierce her with that satanic, soul-ripping stare... When would the sanity-turmoiling cold laughter commence? When would the green light of pain gush her again...? 

Yoka could not comprehend the difference between Buzz and _the _Buzz in her delirious state of mind, neither she had yet recognized Mira.

Lightyear was still holding his aching stomach, wheezing like a leaking balloon. Utterly shocked, he gawped at the ferocious woman. Was... was _that_ supposed to be Yoka? His, his precious Yoka, his dearest, looking as though she had lost the faintest lights, not to mention her condition. Her garments were mutilated into rags; her once so sleek hair was hanging in shaggy, greasy dreadlocks over her face. She had lost weight a great deal and just received bruises instead. All the roundness she had achieved, while eating the strong food of the Lightyear household, had melted away. The girl was just as skinny as when he for the first time had met her after the bear slaughter.

Hot, bitter tears started trickling down Buzz' cheeks, his fists clenching with whitening knuckles. The taste of acid blood filled his mouth, as he unnoticed had bitten his lower lip broken, in his mad anger towards a certain sadistic devil. What _had_ Evil Buzz done to his Yoka? 

Just at this moment, it dawned on him why the Kalevan was acting that way. The Shadow's cackle was ringing in his ears:_ The chick can't recognize the difference, thinks it's you who's doing this to her..._So, she thought Buzz had come to pommel the living quasars out of her...

No, no, this was horrible. The impersonation had thoroughly mangled the little trust the Indian had had towards him. He had to make her understand he was _not_ the fiend of her nightmares, but that he had come to free her from the chains of this hell. Merely sobbing, he approached her, arms spread wide open.

"Yoka, it's _me_! We have come to get you out of here, not to hurt you!"

A fierce snarl coming from the shadows told that his plea had not been understood.

Still more to come. 


	23. In his arms

Tardily, his visage lopsided into a beseeching, maudlin grimace, Buzz approached Yoka.

"Please, c-calm down, it's just Mira and I. We're not here to hurt you! There's been a horrible mistake, you've been mislead to think _I_ have been t---"

"_Katoa, senkin saastainen Tuonelan rakki! Tappamaanko minut olet vihdoin saapunut? Paholaisen sikioe! Oi isaeni, miksi tuomitsit minut taehaen kurjaan kohtaloon, miksi pakotit minut orjaksi, jalkavaimoksi Tuonen Herran?_" a myrinx-bursting screech killed Buzz' petition. The woman had retreated in the furthest nook of the stinky, moldy cell.

_The door was open... but a hovering demon was guarding it... could she possibly be able to escape through the barricades...? No... the doom was coming closer..._

Lightyear was aware of how the girl kept twitching from side to side, as though about to jump past him. She merely resembled a wounded gazelle that was trying with its last strength to flee the approaching hungry pack of lions. Buzz felt as though history was repeating itself: he was back in Kaleva, in his teepee, trying to soften the weeping Yoka-hanen who was lamenting her miserable life as a monster's servant. This time the space ranger just had not destroyed half of her property. Haze was binding his awareness. What to do, what to do? How to make her understand?

The following seconds transformed into an agitated anarchy of stumblings, collisions, and vain attempts to flee. Yoka had decided to use her last ace, and rush away, whatever then would follow. Her nerves were in their breaking point: only a flimsy string of sense held the fragments of reason together. Thus she made a roaring attack of blind rage, ready to knock the fiend out of the way with a well-aimed kick. Buzz was not quite in condition to pounce around like Super Mario, but he had to cease this foul war. A few ducks and painful somersaults, and he ended up clinching the struggling Kalevan in his arms. 

The woman's mad howl was not staunched; her bleary soul pictured her being arrested into the fatal pinch of the grim reaper, rather than being finally lifted into safety. A push of shoulder, a jolt of elbow. The rope around her wrists seared her skin, causing only more ache. But she had to fight herself free! She did not want to die in the talons of _Hornan_ _aarnikotka_. 

It was only more terror to Buzz to see her this close after the stifling weeks, and at the same time endeavor to tame her forcibly. "Stop it, Yoka dear! You're hurting yourself!" he implored, more salty tears bursting out from his eyes. "Yoka, my poor Yoka, what has he done you? Mira, help me! I can't hold her still!" His request was quite much as possible as asking a sausage to sprout wings and fly to Andromeda. And Nova rasped reasonably through her respirator that she had none kind of magical tricks in her pockets.

"But I can't keep her like this, I'm hurting her and she's hurting herself..."

Nonetheless, a familiar robot head peeked in to the room just at the moment. XR had whizzed back from his deadlock tournée, alarmed by the brouhaha coming from the other end of the archway.

"Sweet granddaughter of Venus, what the---" he raised an artificial brow when spotting the vista. The he-man archetype Buzz Lightyear was shedding tears, a ferocious woman trying to sink her teeth in the captain's arm... The male's yelps of help yet awakened him in a split nanosecond.

"XR! Do you have anything to calm her down? Tranquillizers, anything? Blast, we can't get her out; she thinks I have come to kill her or something!"

"Phew, what a lady-killer..." the mecha rummaged his cylindrical mid-section, tossing a few incomprehensible objects -including a Barney plushie, beach ball, and bonsai yucca palm- over his shoulder, before extracting an injection needle and a bottle of some liquid. "Egh..." The droid looked repulsively at the sharp, glimmering needle. "Now I don't wanna do this...it's a damsel after all, though not _really_ your basic D.I.D. ..."

"Do you think _I _want this?" Buzz interjected, "But it'll hurt her a lot less than this! Wait a moment, what is that stuff?"

"Neuro-Paraly-Z-55X, Star Command approved. Though I think they approved this for sedating those Karnian beasts..."

"One microgram, no more! And dilute it!"

Rather reluctantly, the bot dashed to sting the Kalevan. The wasp role did not last long, and the tranquillizer was quickly dosed in her vein. A cacophony of screams and fierce wriggles pursued, but the medicine began working in a flash. Yoka started losing the stamina, and soon flopped listlessly down to rest in Buzz' hold. This variant of Neuro-Paraly-Z did not actually stun the victim, but affected the central nervous system and the nerve impulses to major limbs. So, the girl remained semi-awake, but could raise a fist against nobody due to the muscle-paralyzing effect the drug caused.

Lightyear stood no more. He sunk down onto the flagstones, the slack Kalevan crammed in his arms. Splashing tears around like a malfunctioning fountain, he squeezed the beaten woman hard against his chest. He had not felt her warmth in weeks, not sensed her softness in ages... One large hand found its way to stroke her shaggy mop of hair, while it pressed her head gently on his big, soft shoulder. The woman still was evidently battling, yet could not produce but a shoddy stir to shoo the 'foe' away. Opening the knots of her wrist ropes, Buzz freed her from the last physical pain.

"Shht... it's all right, please don't be afraid..." the male slurred some kind of incoherent mantra. Oh why, why everything had to fall into the chasms of impossibility? Why the life never lingered in blissful valleys of harmony, but always had to be twisted with sorrow? Her presence in his hold did not abate the hatred swelling in his heavy chest, nor thoroughly washed the mourn away. His own wife did not answer to his caresses; he was _again_ the universe's most infernal fiend in her eyes. But there _had to be_ a way to reverse the tragedies, there just had to be!

Blackness, incomprehension embraced his mind. Buzz just wanted to make her understand... see though the thick fog of falsehood... His cheek nuzzled her back of the neck, his lips beginning to fondle her. Such an eternity had passed... everything was so hard to comprehend...

It was as though Mira had read Lightyear's mind. She was goggling at the whole show of desperation from the cube's threshold. And for once, XR's irony sensors had been grounded and no sarcasm current was flowing in them. He was giving a report to Zurg about the quasi-successful mission. The Princess hovered to him, prompted something, and soon fluttered to the recess of rejected love. In her trembling hands, Nova held a Babelfish translator the droid had lent. She adjusted the airborne chair to glide inches above the floor, and somewhat arduously changed her pose under the seatbelts. The Tangean became face à face with the former prisoner, whom the Morphean man kept clasping in a bit uncanny way. Yoka's visage was phlegmatically gawking over his anconal; hence the external eye connection was possible.

Mira sensed the situation bathing in weirdness. She hardly knew the foreign woman; neither quite approved her skeptical, biased, rather bizarre nature. And suddenly she was obliging herself to act like a big sister, had acquired this odd responsibility of trying to hammer some sense under those dreadlocks. Even someone with the IQ of a prune could have apprehended that Buzz' cuddles aided much nothing. Zurg had arranged Mira's brainwashed synapses in order by growling out the differences between Buzz and Buzz. Someone had to do the same for the Indian.

The blue one picked up one of Yoka's drooping hands, taking a concerned gaze straight in her impassive grey irises. The translator had been hacked to twaddle Sivakka.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

Yoka's vision had been blotched with glutinous mist. She was drifting in dark-blue ether, in an atonic sphere of shades, indolence... Why had the pain not yet gushed her broken? From where had this inebriated sensation come from, this inability to move? Or was this the death itself? No... this was the same dull cell, just the same hell as before the intoxication. But... there was no coldness, no wrench, but a mellow warmth instead. _Why...?_ Nonetheless, the Prince of Darkness, Proud Crescent, was still present... only that he was behaving against all the logic. She was actually receiving slow, long kisses from the demon, so much the comprehension had dawned her mind. Then... what was that figure staring at her? That blue face, with those worried pupils... But was not that the _Manan__ haltijatar,_ who had just guarded the entrance...? Abruptly, she recognized the alien. That was _suuremo_ Sininen. What was she doing here? She seemed to speak... However, the words appeared unclear, until the Kalevan distinguished a perfect pattern of sentences not articulated with Sininen's timid tone, but gibbered in metallic, monotonous emphasis.

"_Hei, kuuletko aeaeneni? Oletko kunnossa? Ethaen saeikaehdae, olemme tulleet hakemaan sinut pois taeaeltae. __Kukaan__ ei tee sinulle pahaa, ymmaerraethaen?_"

Yoka-hanen's heavy eyelids raised a millimeter, as a minute streamlet of conception was bubbling in her soggy awareness. _It was talking to her, in her own language..._

_"Mit... Mitae tapah--- tuu...?" _ Her succulent mouth barely formed the sentence. But just a tiny vibration of ether was enough for the translator to catch it and carry it to Mira.

So, there was a connection. The Indian was somewhat in reason despite boisterous, almost unsound rioting earlier. Evil Buzz had not yet shattered the delicate orb of sanity, at least not thoroughly.

Mira bit her lip. How to go onwards? What to utter, what to explain, so that a humanoid from a primitive culture could drink from the goblet of truth, and become sated with understanding? How to depict parallel universes and their threats to an individual, who had so far been unaware even of extraterrestrial life? How to explain_ believably_ that her husband had an evil counterpart from a mirror cosmos? She felt the uneasiness jamming a clod in her throat. Evil counterpart... and the _good_ Buzz himself had been evil to Yoka-hanen. But that there was even something _eviler _existing, a twin-like male...

_Twin._That was the magic word. It was not utterly correct, since those two Buzzes were nowise related. But maybe this slightly false interpretation would fill the void, and a tiny trust could be built. And upstairs, Yoka could with her own oculars see how the torturer was an identical copy of 'Proud Crescent', even their beard models matching perfectly nowadays.

Thus, slowly, awkwardly, Nova began the explanation task. With the cloudy stare of a semi-benumbed, the Kalevan gawped at her. The miscellaneous slurping noises coming from Buzz' direction somewhat distracted the fact-illuminating, but Lightyear took no notice of Mira's sharp side comments to stop the kissing for a second. The man had become deaf to the reality, and was chained inside the realm of unbounded, swelling emotions.

Minutes later, Mira sighed the final syllable. She could not figure out more to squeak, and was very unsure whether the story had not even been grasped. Yoka's stupor-ish gaze had not shifted a millimeter, and appeared just as braindead as before. But just when the Tangean was thinking about the laborious job of re-explaining everything, a broken prompt gurgled out from the other woman's throat.

"_Kak__--__ kak-- kak-sois... v... v-eli...?_"

Mira's hope leaped up an inch. She _was_ making results. Squeezing lightly the dark-brown hand in her own, she affirmed,

"_Juuri niin, sinun miehellaesi on hyvin paha kaksoisveli, joka on vaeaeryydellae kohdellut sinua naein. Ei mitaeaen haetaeae enaeae. Olemme vanginneet sen, joka on petkuttanut meitae kaikkia. Saat itse naehdae kohta taemaen roikaleen"_, the translator wheezed Mira's response.

"Do you believe me?" she added. 

A delirious 'I do not know' answered.

The situation required something more, perhaps _verbal_ interaction between Buzz and his dubious wife. Nova's second attempt to drag Lightyear's attention away from the futile caresses succeeded, and he raised his regard to listen to what the Princess had in mind. Hence, step two in the process of taming one fierce creature was taken. Yoka had to be made to comprehend that her _real_ mate was present, and that he wished to help her just as much as Sininen. A big soft palm lifted the Kalevan's slack head from the shoulder, bringing her glazed mien nose to nose with the watery expression of Buzz. 

A muffled squeal welled up from Yoka-hanen's lungs, burbling out in raucous hacks.

_The Prince of Tuonela._

_Inches away, staring at her.___

Then again... whywas there such a _different_ hue in the hazed bogey, such an altered sonus in the lore of _Manala__...? _It indeed was Proud Crescent anteriorly, but... then again, it was a fully dissimilar Proud Crescent. That sniveling countenance was not curved into a malicious grin at all. And his eyes... where was that sadistic, soulless glint she feared so much? How much she ever searched for it, there was not even a hint of it. Instead, large tears were rolling down his cheeks, under there shining an appearance extremely pleading. But still, it was _he_, was it not?

_Twin brother..._

A petty shred of sunlight crawled through the sackcloth mass of Yoka's mental stormclouds. It cast an ashen lumen above _suuremo_ Sininen's mumbles, giving a minute glow for the gems of truth. A dawn of mind is always a relief that fractures granite-hard burdens to pebbles, and aids digging up these precious jewels from the pits of suspicion. She stared back at those misty blue eyes, for the first time feeling the light caresses of his thumb on her bucca. Then it spoke, not in the weird language of the dark heavens, but in the tongue of her ancestors. The baritone utterances clang with false grammar and broken accent, but there was solace in them, warm calmness... "_Rakas_, _ei tarvita pelaetae, rakas pieni tyttoeni... _"

_Proud Crescent had a twin brother...? And this was _not_ him...?_

Gulping down the acid taste of bitterness scorching his palate, Buzz repeated many erroneously articulated splutters against her lips, searching for trust in the deep grayness of Yoka's irises. During the short, shared weeks of their beginning love, he had learned crumbs of Sivakka, rather subliminally. And right at the moment, he felt it best to begin creating the confidence this way, by telling things in the means most familiar to the Kalevan. Even if the few expressions he knew would sound thoroughly ridiculous. But the translator had no emotions, it never was able to render the feeling behind the syllables, never could convert the desperate love flowing beneath the tone...And the more Buzz lingered in the profundity of that grayness, the more he spotted small streamlets of reborning faith.

The narrow seconds were stretched to decades on the starry pattern of the galaxy. So it felt like, always, during the moments of extreme, anxious waiting. Then, abruptly, he was granted with a sign, which told that his dirge had been at least partly heard. A single tear escaped from the corner of Yoka-hanen's eye, while her heavy-feeling lips were forming a phrase so timid that even Lightyear barely caught it. Nonetheless... this little expression was the treasure he had been seeking for so frantically.

_The petite sign of trust_....

She understood, at least a weakly.

His lips wiped the teardrop away, sliding down her cheek to unite with her mouth. There was no answer to his deep, burning kisses, but perhaps there would be one day... when the hell would be perished, and the trust built again. Maybe...

*****

Meanwhile in the main chambers of the Nex Crucio fortress, Zurg and Booster were furthermore waiting for the backup. The old emperor sat at the console, snarling menacingly at the malfunctioning communicators. Booster sat in one dim corner, guarding Evil Buzz. This time the Jo-Adian was keeping the snake staff, which had become some sort of a hot potato nobody quite wanted to hold. Even he leered at it utterly disgusted. The viper's slit-eyed head with bared fangs was frowning evilly, the cane's silvery rod shimmering cold light.

Munchapper did not pay attention to the swiveling side-glances of the Shadow, who grumblingly hovered nearby. His malignant blue oculars were constantly sweeping around the oval chamber, ending again and again to rest on that particular shiny serpent. In the endless chambers of evilness and scheming, a new plot was being woven. His lip curling slightly, the fiend decided to take this new invention into his claws.

_Zurg was back against him, and that red insufferable mudblood would be easy to distract..._

He hovered a tad nearer the quasi-antsy Jo-Adian, and lowered his mocking voice into a mere whisper."Do you know what you're holding there?" he asked casually, hiding cleverly the intentions of this conversation. As Booster did not figure out what to respond, he went on.__

"It's the main weapon of a Nex Crucio cult member... an elegant gun, so to say... heheheh. Do you know where I found it? Want to know to whom it has belonged to?"

"Umm..." the reptilian stole a nervous glance towards Evil Buzz. The ranger could not really comprehend why the foe had bothered to unleash this chitchat.

The bearded man's tone deepened furthermore, its callous drawl starting to put frosty wriggles worm down Booster's spine. "I found it in the dungeons... in a moldy cell where two skeletons were... hehehehe... the second one of them was still holding it... I bet you would _die to know_ who he was..."

"Umh... why would I want to know?" the space ranger murmured. He was eyeing at the snake staff even more loathing.

"Oh but of _course_ you'd want to know... especially because of your _dear friend_ Buzz... You know... it was his forefather who owned that once. Zoxewa Lightyear, a man full of such enviably pure evilness. You know... he used to slaughter incompetent blobs like you with that weapon..."

Now Munchapper's hand was slightly trembling. Second by second, the ugly artificial snake became more and more abominable, as though some dirty demon had possessed it. He figured out nothing to blurt, just cast a semi-angry side glimpse at the enemy and his dark propaganda.

"Hey, you duck-brain! You shall keep your idle trap shut and stay in your puny hole!" Zurg's bass bark came from the console. He had obviously heard fragments of the uncanny chat. But he did not take further notice of it, only swirled back to tinker with the half-rusty knickknacks. 

Evil Buzz scowled at Zora's wide back, his thick black brow furrowed deep. _That blasted blood-traitor would pay his every toot and moo... he would cringe, rot, the Judas of his glorious inheritance..._Gathering back his determination, the Shadow went on with his scheme. Munchapper was reacting just the way he had wished... grown abruptly jumpy, a tad distracted... just a bit more restlessness would be required...

And while drawling more ghostly songs about the Dark Lightyears, Evil Buzz carefully hovered nearer and nearer the Jo-Adian's seat.

"He was still holding the stick in his rotten, gnarled hand... heheheh... ever seen a real, mummified skeleton close by? Or a mummified _Lightyear?_ Hehehehe..."

This latter whisper made Booster's stomach lurch and some gastric acid crawl upwards his gullet. He wanted to throw away the viper cane, as though it had suddenly transformed into some kind of slimy, hideous, wriggling Swamp Thing.

_It was now, or never._

Out of the blue, Evil Buzz took a flash-quick spurt with his hover boots, and lunged towards the Jo-Adian. It had been a mistake to chain his wrists from the front, since that made him able to use his fists rather freely despite the ion handcuffs. As the ranger's hands were feeble from nervousness, it was rather effortless for the Shadow to repeat the trick XR had done to him. 

Snap, and the horrible weapon was back in his grip. Adjusting quickly the plasma-laser pulse level towards maximum, he made the snake belch a blast of green light towards the red alien. Booster had only a brief second to yelp something incoherent, before he was lolling on the stone slabs, looking horribly lifeless. The sudden hullabaloo had awakened Zora, who swung around in his chair. It must have been a sheer reflex that made him bounce off from the seat, but it saved his soul at that instant. A second later the stool had transformed into a smoldering wreck. Zurg had no time to ponder deeply what on cracked quasar had happened behind him, he only saw that Evil Buzz was loose and that the chamber was too swiftly being converted into a flaming inferno.

_If he only had had something with which to defend himself now... anything... no, no time for that... he had to stop Evil Buzz and tear that staff from him..._

Amazingly quick reflexes the Emperor had a man for his age, not to mention the flexibility, which made him throw somersaults and dodge the missiles. Or then it was the sheer panic that heated the adrenalin. Yet, arduously he was advancing towards the Shadow on the other side of the chamber. If only the menace had not had the ability to fly...

These dreadful seconds of anarchy were like a deathmatch between a fierce dragon and an unarmed knight. Evil Buzz' cackles were echoing across the musty den of ancient evilness, mocking the futility of Zoxedaszeĉ's kangaroo imitation.

"Give it up, you wrinkled old fool... it's time for the blood-traitor to decay... hahahaha. You and your stupid son ruined my universe, now it shall be my day of revenge! I thought I might have benefited from your Dark Arts knowledge, but it's so futile. You'd be just a sting in my flesh, with your pathetic prophecies about the light. Oh so you have smelled the death's putrid stench, well smell it AGAIN! _And__ rot in peace!_ HAHAHAHAH!" The hoarse laughter discorded together with the cracks of breaking furniture. The viper kept puking the green flames so thick and fast, that this blaring, fatal fire was making even Evil Buzz' eyes burn with green, half-blinding afterimages.

And suddenly, it was the enemy's turn to fall. Something yanked his robes hard, and he was torn down from the highnesses. Painfully the Shadow was being smashed on his back onto the cold flagstones. The outline of a huge, vicious figure was being delineated above him: the muscle-bulging torso of Emperor Zurg. In the sickly sallow lumen of the stone chamber, he appeared like some sort of huge goblin with his newly received bruises, messy shrubbery of black locks, his hairy chest and iron-hard thick arms bare between the rags of his almost fully torn shirt. But the most furious strength was sparkling in his dark eyes which were burning like two raving bonfires. 

How the old man had leaped behind the Shadow and overtaken him briefly like this, he could not understand. Nevertheless, despite the handcuffs, he was still holding firmly the snake staff, ready to turn his rival into ashes. But before his thumb pushed the trigger, a hairy fist cramped itself around his wrist, obliging the viper's grimacing mouth to point elsewhere. Evil Buzz literally squealed with wrench, saliva gurgling from his lopsided mouth. Zurg's physical force was horrible, seemingly far beyond Evil Buzz' one, even though the foe was by no means any wad-filled teddy bear.

_The snake's maw was turning away from Zora's thorax, the Shadow's fingers sliding off from the trigger... But if he could grab the weapon with his left hand, and fry the cursed blood-traitor..._

The effort ended to a sickening _crunch,_ just before a blinding zap of green light curtained the scene under its appalling orb.

****

Down in the dungeons XR awoke with an alarm to notice that Zurg's grooved visage had vanished from the portable screen, and had been replaced with the ominous sounds of evident battle. Emerald green flames were faintly dancing in the ceiling the monitor now depicted. Several times he tried calling the Emperor, but in vain. His queries were answered only with the sizzle of those dodgy green blasts.

The robot twirled about on his caterpillars to meet Mira, Buzz, and Yoka, who were furthermore crouching in the same corner of the cell.

"Red alert! Something has happened upstairs! We have to get up there and fast!"

**...to be continued...**


	24. Outcome of silence

AN: A short-ish update here, I'm trying to get a hold of this story again after four months' hiatus. And hopefully finishing it sometime soon. I don't, with 100% certainty, recall everything I've scribbled in the previous chapters, so there may be some repetition of description, ect. My apologies about that.

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The little crackling comlink connecting Zurg to the underworld troops had gone utterly senseless, with only a dull ticking sound frizzling from the ancient transceiver. Equally dead, the smudgy monitor displayed only a shred of vaulted ceiling swimming in rippling shadows. No Booster, no emperors to answer when hollered. Judging by the nature of the ominous silence, something very grim was going on upstairs. 

The fatigued quartet had abandoned the dungeon in a grand haste. Initially they limped and fluttered onwards in a moldy wriggly archway, trying to discover the quickest route to the main chambers. XR rolled on the fore, Buzz hitched and dragged the half-paralyzed Yoka along, and Mira soared on the heels with her hover chair, attempting not to smash herself against the very contiguous walls.

"Hey, captain duo, this ol' tin toy's got a nifty plan: What if I'll go ahead and save the galaxy? Can you guys come along on your own?" the robot threw in his haphazard idea.

"No we can't! Listen..." Buzz coughed, the stuffy, putrid air prickling on his palate. "We can't find a way out of here on our own. If you take the map, we'll get lost. And we need your spotlight, neither one of us can hold one now. Blast, and whatever's happening up there... We need to face it as one troop. As united, we stand better against the perils. I... I got the very worst feeling that Evil Buzz has gotten loose..."    

It would have been perhaps easy for such an overly muscular hunk to perform heroic deeds in _normal conditions_: smashing daddy's cozy hornets and ducking snug plasma missiles... However, even the legendary Buzz Lightyear had his limits sometimes. Injured, washed-out, and laserless as he was, the path out of this behemoth's stomach was not found with lightspeed. And usually a dark and hopeless mind drains the strength even worse than just plain physical pain. Yoka's senselessness, the hatred towards the wicked twin, this horrible estate of his own blood... these wraiths were like sly spiders weaving their sticky webs tighter and tighter around him, ready to devour the unlucky capture, ready to suffocate the hope's frail whimper. Yet, something still gave him adequate power to fight against these poltergeists, and go on, go on, through the throbbing ache and this clammy, airless hell...

"But... couldn't Booster and your father---" Nova started.

"Don't underestimate him! I know _myself_ quite well, after all", the man hissed, adjusting the flaccid Kalevan in his arms so that her weight would be less proportioned towards his piercingly stinging left side. Being still under the tranquillizer's effect, her face stood dull and mouth agape behind the curtains of greasy dreadlocks, thus making her look almost mentally subnormal. And truth to be told, the man was slightly afraid of a permanent psychological destruction, as not yet being fully aware of how much the demon had bedeviled her already sore mind. Thick black brows crumpled deep, he went on, "Don't forget that he's a mirror me, and capable of very nasty surprises. If I do great deeds on the battlefield, his nefarious schemes are like dark, warped reflections of the very me."

As the Lightyear family was known for its pompous egoism, it did not come as a surprise to hear such mega-smug rhapsodies slithering out of Buzz' mouth. Yet, amongst the gloating swam also the very truth. Buzz was no incompetent coot, even though he did not possess the most shining gems of intelligence. Just equal was his alternate universe opponent: more twisted and craftier in evilness than Zurg ever had been, and also so much more capable of accomplishing his horrid, sick machinations.

"And whatever you think", he panted on, eyes narrowing, "always remember, that this psychopath has not an inch of humanity in him. Makes my father's former self look like a jolly Mickey Mouse beside him. Don't ever expect _pity_ or _mercy_ from him."

"You don't need to lecture me about that, Buzz. _I know_ now", Mira's vexed voice wheezed through the respirator. 

The squad was reaching a fork of four corridors. In the very opposite alcove, a moss-growing, slippery staircase shimmered in the spotlight's orb. A few empty torch rackets and battered brass plates slapped on the crumbling brick walls glimmered eerily as the yellow beams kissed them. This separator of floors looked faintly familiar for Mira and XR. And as the exhausted team neared the gaping black doorway, they could distinguish two caterpillar tracks worming out of the escalator arcade, continuing to wriggle on the miry stone slabs, and ultimately turn to the passageway in the left.

"At least we're on the right way; this is where we entered your level, Buzz."

"How much more? Craters, we may be running out of time. How many floors left? Doesn't this cornucopia of cursed warped malevolence have any elevators in it? My dad was at least _practical_ when it came to building evil lairs; the hero could easily infiltrate in, find his way, and predict the classic booby traps. This place is just _too illogical_ to be an appropriate villain hideout! What was it with these people?"    

The mecha fingered hastily the small console, getting sucked into the secrets of the green wireframe map. "Fifteen says the pal here. Well, looks like your ancestors were slightly different from the classical evil-mad-scientist type, you know the one with shark pools and piranhas and hero-sized air vents to crawl in..."

Buzz swore under his breath, trying to ignore the imaginary thistles ripping his muscles. However, the alternatives were scarce: either to continue, or have a picnic here. Whereas the latter one was not a plausible option at all. Hence, the team was soon swallowed by the staircase's black gorge, the desperate rush upstairs dragging on.

****

_Blib__... blib... blib..._Water was dripping slowly somewhere, the zigzagging archways multiplying the echoes eerily. XR's lantern brushed past a small shelf on the wall, where a loose, cobwebbed human scull stood on a shallow stone basin decorated with densely coiling ornamental serpents. A tattered shred of crimson curtain hung above it, making the whole repulsiveness look like a macabre altar. In the flickering, sweeping light, the bony visage appeared almost as though it had been ghostly following the quarter's course with those empty, hollow eyes, its grimacing smile sniggering mutely at them.

"This place is sick", the Princess grunted, turning her jaded gaze aside. "Anything on the comlink?"

"Nope", the android confirmed. "This gimmick's just as talkative as that merry head."

Mira glared at the bigmouth robot. As usual, his sarcasms were utterly out-of-place.

Three more floors... two more... one more... Finally the languid four managed to reach the final vault's threshold. Yet, no fate was still established. A considerable distance of worming crypts remained before the main chambers. But at least the halls were wider now, the air less stale, and no mossy staircases were any longer pestering them.

Time seemed to be frozen, as it always did on moments of great confusion. The rangers rushing along the very last archways found it unnerving that they were coming across nothing but silence. If Evil Buzz indeed had been unleashed, as the twin of the Light Side had predicted, where was the thunder of battle? Or... was there an ambush ahead? The foe prowling somewhere in the shadows, waiting for the remaining foursome to fall upon Zurg and Booster's lifeless forms sprawling on the floor... Clearly the menace had only a single ill will spinning in his psychotic mental carousel: the slaughter of everyone and everything. And he definitely was not going to leave any eyewitnesses behind, even if he was planning for a stealthy escape. ...In addition, where were Commander Nebula's troops loitering? Eternities had passed without the promised backup.

XR snapped the spotlight off. The chambers just before the control room were lit with a flock of acid-green lanterns found from Evil Buzz' premises. The last-second, hushed creeping the squad attempted, was rather pathetic. The coves had already reverberated their every hurried tread so loudly that the enemy had to be deafer than an old sponge, if he was not yet aware of their presence. Nonetheless, since the robot was the single one with some firepower, he was sent first to probe the tomb-silent halls ahead. Miserably failing the secrecy, Mira and Buzz endeavored prowling in the few circular antechambers before the burrow of dank muteness. 

So oppressing this subterranean dusk was... Buzz felt a few hot sweat drops rolling down the side of his face. Yoka-hanen was staring at him blankly with glazed, half-open eyes, undoubtedly not perceiving a flying maggot's tail about the situation. Feebly, Mira was making noiseless gestures towards the galloping shadows where their only protector had vanished.

Silence... 

The Princess pricked up her ears, a petulant pout painted on her face. Nonetheless, both she and Lightyear were to sprout all the way to the ceiling when XR's sudden yelp rang through the frowsty ether.    

"The course is clear, but you better come quickly! We... ehh... seem to have ah-- a big problem over here."

Holding her ribs, still slightly breathless after the shock created by the sharp robotic bawl in this climax of black horror, the Tangean aimed an anxious goggle at Lightyear. Nodding, he emerged from the dusty curtain's shelter where he had been semi-skulking, entering the stifling enigmas.

A very odd view awaited. Buzz could briefly recognize two lumpy figures lying on the flagstones. The nearest one appeared to be an ashen-faced, crouching Zora, who was grasping hard his temples and rocking his body back and forth, looking as though the last crumbs of intelligence had escaped from his cranial cavities. His jaw was twitching; his vacant pupils were staring aimlessly at the raven alcoves beyond the blaring orbs of light. Dark blotches colored the few rags of shirt the man still had left, droplets of blood oozing from the gashes that ran crisscross his bare chest and arms.

Buzz stopped dead, almost dropping the listless woman he was dragging. "Father! What happen---" His gaze flicked to and fro the chaotic chamber, trying to hunt the reason that seemed jestingly galloping away every time he though he had captured it. Ranger Munchapper was the second lump, XR was stagnating beside him with a stethoscope... Yet he hardly caught the relieved exclaim telling that a pulse had been found, as his gawp landed back onto Zurg. That pasty-flown countenance, that ague-like hysterical trembling; Lightyear could have sworn he had recently seen a reaction very similar to this... That blind horror reflecting from those deep aged eyes, just like after a certain jeremiad about the Emperor's past savagery, involving Mizar and Adi-Gaia.

Briefly the younger man turned to Mira, who had landed with her space-age wheelchair near the dust-breathing sofa. He let the Kalevan down, placing her carefully onto the rather filthy cushions that the ancient, half-rotten piece of furniture so generously provided. The blue one seemed feeling queasy again, which could be effortlessly read from her pained, downcast mien.

"Mira, would you look after her for a moment? I know you're exhausted, but just a little while, just that---"

Her wheezy sigh interrupted him. "I know, I know. You go to your father." 

He tossed an uneasy smirk towards her, and scampered back to the nook where the old royal cringed. Confusion crumbling his brows, Buzz knelt onto the stone slabs, cautiously querying,

"Father? What happened here? Where's-- Craters, you're bleeding all over!" He goggled grimacing at the Emperor's bruises, only just fully comprehending Zora's hideous state. "XR! I need disinfectant and bandages, my father's--"

"Okey-dokey, just a teensy weensy nanosecond, I unfortunately don't have a cloned twin brother whom I could send to serve you while I'm myself nursing this one..." the android replied from the corner, where the unconscious Jo-Adian was sprawling amongst the dust, tongue lolling floppily out of his maw.   

"I don't need you _personally_, just throw me the first-aid kit..." Glaring, he turned back to the ostensibly hysteric elder one. Zora did not seem to pay attention at all to what was churning around, as though his mind had disconnected itself from the very reality. Nevertheless, he obviously sensed Buzz' presence, as for the first time, the stuttering mouth was gurgling out almost mute, yet comprehensible words.

"Sc--screaming... They are all--- screaming... I... hhhh--had... no... rrr--right..." His hairy, long-fingered fists pressed ever harder his sweating temples, as though desperately trying to hold a crackling, shattering scull intact.

"Father! What's going on? Who's screaming? Where's Evil Buzz?" the startled son yelped.

"I-- d-d-d-id not m-mean it, I d-d-did not want to--- I-- c-could not stop it-- They are screaming again---" Zurg raised his madly burning glare, beneath which the offspring winced, involuntarily taking a spidery stir backwards. And then, his palm hit something. Something else than those cold, coarse flagstones... Something lukewarm, draped in canvas... He spun around, momentarily icy chills wriggling down his spine. This ill place and its horrific surprises were making him more and more neurotic as the crawling seconds passed. Indeed, the view behind him made his hair rise up. How could he have not noticed this _third_ figure when entering? Though, apparently the robotic ranger had, since declaring the course clear...   

It was Evil Buzz, partly hidden in the shadowy blotch of a decomposing curtain. Lying there on his back, limbs unnaturally crooked to both sides, his wide-open blue eyes were staring disjointedly at the ceiling. From the first glance it appeared as though he had been in deep stupor, yet... the slightly twisted countenance was oddly waxy, the pupils carried an uncanny enamel-like coating. And under the mass of black robes, his body did not seem to flinch even a millimeter, his chest not raising up and down with the tempo of breathing...

Lightyear blinked, his befuddled gawp next falling onto a familiar-looking viper staff a few inches away from its master. The silvery serpent's maw was faintly smoldering... as though it had been belching more than just a few petite doses of its deadly venom in succession. And indeed, Zurg and this very chamber had evidently been hit with those plasma barfs more than just once, judging by their drastically changed condition.

_Blam__._ Just then, the old man's peculiar splutterings became clothed, the understanding whooshing through Buzz' head like a stormwind.

_Screams.__ Even though he had never revealed anyone, Zoxedaszeĉ had narrated him about the haunting of his dark estate, about those that had faded away in his very claws... The millions, the millions of quenched voices..._

_Why were they screaming, unless--- Unless..._

He turned back to the bloodless-gone foe, who furthermore goggled so unblinkingly at the illusionary infinities, that it appeared already unnatural. Disgusted though the man was, he slipped a few fingers under the Shadow's collars to feel the carotid.

_No pulse._Additionally, the skin was abnormally cold. Of this, only one logical conclusion could be drawn.

_Evil Buzz had to be dead.        _

Zurg's gargling croaks on the background were growing more sensible, telling that he was with his full force endeavoring to smother the dissonant ringing in his cranium, and glue together the few fragments of sense left. "Thh-- the staff--- I tried to r-rip it away fff...from him, but s-something gave in and it-- it sl-- slipped... I-- I did not m-mean t-to..."

"Father, it had to be an accident, you can't blame yourself--"  

The green lanterns made Zora's brown eyes gleam with an ill, acid glint. "I took a life! I had no right! Even though what he was, I had no right! Another one perished in my cursed, damned hands, another one..." he stared disgustedly at his chapped, aged palms, and the stiff, unnaturally long thin fingers. "When shall it end? Shall it _never _end? Who bound our blood to this legacy of death? And why, _WHY?_"

...to be continued... Comments?


	25. Deliberations

AN: Thanks for the reviews! ^_^

_Paprika90: _They're not going to stay there too long, and Yoka starts comprehending the differences in this chapter. =)

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Gradually, with Buzz' anxious pleas of calming down chiming in his ears, the old Emperor began somewhat composing himself. His neurotic self-accusations rang no more that blaringly, yet his frame and mind remained as though he had become the embodiment of this very fortress, a restless wraith of the dark, forgotten tides, sweeping eternally along the rotting archways beneath. The dagger-sharp gaze had turned bleary, fatigued, and his aged visage was abruptly shimmering with all the misery the lapsed decennia had carved on it. While the younger man patched the wounded one, he monotonously slurred how a fight had broken out, and how everything had ended to the fortuitous triggering of the serpent staff. The weapon had slipped so, that its maw had inadvertently pointed right at the enemy's heart. Just when the foe's thumb had slid over a certain crucial button.

So had the snake bit the dark twin with its deadly venom.

"See, father, it was an accident. You mustn't blame yourself for this. And craters, isn't he the one who definitely deserves to--" his son attempted to hammer some sense under those black bushy locks.

"Who are we to say what one deserves... What is the extent of humanity? Are we given the authority to judge?" Zurg mumbled, barely moving his lips. "Pathetic mortals, weak minds who believe they own the justice. They commit wrong deeds themselves, yet they think they are the supreme ones to define what one deserves and what the other does not..."  

Buzz remained quiet. Even though his reason insisted that the twisted mirror universe doppelganger was worthy of only the final Gehenna, deep down his conscience was quacking against the first and major justifications. Hazily he recalled a mission beyond the lapsed years, when Gravitina had allied with this evil form of himself. How they had battled above the fiery turbulences of the sun... and how the enemy had fallen... Long, long afterwards he had kept scanning the sun's environment, in the hope of finding any signs of life. How evil, twisted, sick, or reprehensible the villain ever had been, always he had hoped for the survival and the change of heart... Because, deep down Lightyear believed that nobody was worth of doom and had to be given a chance to reform, a chance to rip apart the black veils of evilness and clothe himself or herself with a new personality, wear again the robes of light. So had done both Zurg and Warp. Nonetheless... could there be human kinds that were simply _too_ putrid to wander under the heavenly lanterns? With a mind so rancid that it was never able to purify itself, or _did not even want to_...

The insides of Evil Buzz were slimy, wriggling earthworms plashing in soggy blackness. There could have never been a possibility to amend that monster.

And, still, was _he _the one who possessed the sovereign right to judge...? And what about all this hatred swelling in his chest like a monstrous balloon? All the dark deeds the rival had carried out against his little precious world, not to mention the cosmoses beyond... On the other hand, similar creations of hell had Zurg once plotted, and yet he had forgiven things he never thought pardonable. 

Some questions were plain answerless.

Buzz frowned, attempting to clip the bandage in two halves with scissors that were far too small for his big, thick fingers. Since fitting those digits in the scissors' holding holes was as though trying to slip a football through a needle's eye, he ended up ripping the material with brutal force. Zora appeared to have endless amounts of bruises decorating his overly wide thorax; hence it was no wonder why the emperor devoured such humongous rolls of patch cloth. Nonetheless, the old man was bleeding no more so violently, and apparently would be able to walk on his own if given a crutch. The mental wounds ran deeper, obliging him to remain as an equal half-hysteric wreck as his son and the rest of this dark saga's victims. The body perhaps regenerated the cells, covered bruises with scar tissue... but the streams of consciousness were blotched for forever with crimson waves. And even if the aware psyche was able to push the banshees aside, they would dwell in the deepest subliminal pits for forever... till the day the mind would be quenched like a candle-end burning down, its petite flame suddenly vanishing into the quivering air.  

Before Lightyear had begun plastering his father, there had been the numerous attempts to revive the waxy-gone Evil Buzz. But his frozen heart did not spring to life any more. He remained cold and unmoving amongst the dust, the serpent staff silently smoldering beside the fading master of Nex Crucio. The poisonous plasma had hit Booster just as powerfully, but apparently his different physique had saved him from perdition. However, even he was suffering from occasional tachycardia, thus putting XR to zoom around chamber with his doctoring supplies as though he had been chasing an especially manic Snitch in one-man Quidditch game. Even though the term _healthy_ is highly questionable when it comes to tuna cans on wheels, the mecha was the only one possessing that blissful condition. Usually he was the one blown to smithereens on missions, but sometimes everyday makes an exemption.

Indeed, it seemed that the mirror universe menace had fallen to the pits of oblivion. His horribly crooked limbs and the empty, blankly staring eyes only increased the crypt's haunting atmosphere: therefore Buzz ended up pressing his half-stiff lids close and spreading a moth-eaten blanket over him.

Sighing, the space ranger scampered up. White glimmering dots were strewn across his vision, as the dizziness took over fleetingly. He had momentarily forgotten his own injuries, but the painful reality gushed him instantly when the attention returned home from its trip to Zurg's dilemma. And the long dragging of Yoka definitely had not magically healed any of those physical damages. 

He limped back to the sofa, where Mira was still guarding the Kalevan. Grim-faced, he bent down to the narcotized woman, whose half-open gaze was furthermore stuck to the vacant gear. Nonetheless, she seemed to stir an inch as his fingers brushed some greasy strands of filthy hair from her sooty, tear-messed face, and remained to fondle her cheek. Still those speechless lips stood immovable... A thin vertical line was drawn across Buzz' nonexistent forehead, as his thick black brows crumbled deeper. 

_Only if she would understand... there had been a frail sign of trust, but how to make her fully see that _he_ had not been the demon darkening the scarce days she had habited this foreign, unknown world...? _

_And__ what would happen when the medicine would wear off? Was there going to be an awakening? Or was she doomed to stay in permanent lethargy, not ever grasping the difference?_

If he only had not fallen to the Dark Side himself while being stuck on Kaleva... The trust had been difficult enough to engineer already then, and now this... therefore Buzz could fairly well comprehend why the girl believed that she was wed to the Devil itself. The little shreds of her obsolete mother tongue Lightyear mastered, had whipped him hard today when understanding a small part of the manic gurgles she had shrieked when entering the dungeon. _Tuonela_ or _Manala_in her culture's ancient mythology meant the House of the Dead... And how he had been called... _Tuonen__ Herra, _the Lord of the Underworld...

_But__, there had been the flimsy sign of light... she could not be totally lost, could she? There was still reason, but how to brace it?_ __

The captain's original idea had been to bring her eye to eye with the imposter as soon as possible. Yet, initially it felt somehow too morbid to start displaying the livid and bruised body of Evil Buzz. But... _was_ it too morbid after all? No. He was being absurd. She was no little naïve princessy in a pink frilly dress galloping in hippy-happy sugar-coated fantasylands, but had probably seen life and its cold truths just as much as he, if not even more. Buzz slightly rolled his eyes at himself; was not he again turning into that overprotective patron-figure so characteristic to him? Yoka-hanen clearly was neither afraid of death nor corpses. It had been _he_ whose hackles had sprung up because of the brown mummies down in the labyrinths of Suur-Kaleva, whereas she had preserved a calm, rational attitude.

The man brought his lips very close to her ear, keeping a few soft fingers smoothing her hair. With a calm tone, he attempted slurring some hideously wrong articulated gurgles of Sivakka. Even though he comprehended how abysmal his skills with that language were, he still thought it better to create the bonds of faith with something that was a part of her universe. However, at this point he regretted that he had not cared to learn more than just a few trivial expressions of that ancient gibberish. On the other hand, the Kalevan linguistics were so complicated that it would have taken at least fifteen years from an average non-native human being to master it sufficiently. Awfully knottier than good ol' English, bursting with lush virgin woods of vocabulary, it was an art in itself. The carrier of runes and the mother of grand epics, where one trivial word could conceal tens of meanings and one meaning be narrated in a myriad of diverse ways. Perhaps the hooknosed redskins were otherwise rather primitive, but they had their complex arts.

"Yoka-hanen... _kuu-ulla__ minun_-- umh… _aasi… asia?_ _Minae__ naeyttaeae sinae-- sinun kuka kuisata_… eh, I mean-- _kiusata sinae_-- _Se ei minae. __Kuu-ulla_ Mira-- ehm, _Sininen sano totus_--" Buzz felt his cheeks shimmering with slight shame. He had probably just uttered the longest drivel he had ever formulated with that uber-tangled gobbledygook-gabble, and evidently sounded like as though his brains had been replaced with moldy radishes. Nonetheless, his attempts seemed to create results. Her half-fatuous gaze had shifted a millimeter towards him, and a petite glint of evident curiosity had ignited in it. A faint smile rippled on his mouth. The Indian was listening.

"_Tyttoe__ pieni, oh-ii taemae polla-- olla kohta_. _Mutta__ sinae taeytyae ymmyrtyae... ymmyrkaeinen_--- umh... _Minae__ ei osaa se __sana_. _Ymmistyae__-- Ympaetae_-- _Ynistae_-- eh." The man was arduously looking for the Sivakkan counterpart of 'to understand', failing miserably. Mira's Babelfish Translator would not have been far away, but he did not want anyone else to get involved in this. Hence he decided to tie his ashamed tongue with a reef knot for a while. He slid his arms around Yoka, and lifted her flaccid form up. His pulled muscles were screaming under his skin, but what were those moans compared to the mind-piercing squeals of his desperation? Staggering her dragged her across the room's bedlam, ultimately squatting down right beside the cold black lump of fraying rags formerly known as Evil Buzz. The man propped Yoka's hanging head against his soft shoulder so that she would have a clear view of the gloomy corner, keeping a strong wide arm around her. His mouth remained close to her ear, his broken twaddle toned soothing and silent. With shaky digits he lifted the filthy rag aside that covered the foe's extinct, sunken face. The flickering orb of a nearby lantern hit the mirror universe twin's profile, painting his ashen countenance with an ill, putrid hue.

"_Katsoa njyt-- nyt, tamae sinut kiusata. Piha-- _uh_, paha. Ei minae. Naeyttaeae sama kuin minae. Minae hake sinae puis-- pois._" Buzz' throat felt as though he had tried to swallow sandpaper, and abruptly his mind seemed to double-lock itself. Sivakka flowed no more in the creeks of speech; the mental surfs became more and more stained with anxiety. 

_Please understand... Please see the difference..._

He cast his eyes back upon girl. Despite the tranquillizer still binding her, the expression on that slack face had abundantly changed. Open-mouthed, she gazed at the sprawling corpse, her jaw twitching mutely. Both dank shock and surprise could be read from those fatigued pupils. Tardily they were sweeping away from the fallen man, past the grimacing serpent cane, towards her owner's beseeching countenance, and back again, as though timidly comparing the figures. Indeed, somewhere beneath the stuffy narcotics, a confused mind was frantically seeking for answers, endeavoring to perceive whether this was just a continuation of the old nightmare, or a true dawn in the faltering reality... 

Buzz' angsty murmurs could not dwell in the foreign lands any longer, but shifted back to English. And he simply knew no more phrases to express himself. "Yoka, please, do you see what I'm trying to tell you? This evil twisted thing kidnapped you, impersonated me, destroyed horribly the little precious peace I had with you. I wanted you to see his remains so that you'd get my point. He... this monster, he's dead now. There was a fight between him and my father-- an accident--"

The Indian's glutinous, yet petrified stare was fixed to her husband's visage.

_Those faces... identical till the last streak... Two Proud Crescents in the House of Perkele... Yet, those eyes... _Through the haze she had been gawping at them, awaiting for the soulless icy gleam to sparkle again in them...

_...but it had never lurked forth..._

...and now this... the Lord of the Green Lightning lying in front of her, dressed in his royal black robes. But his eyes were closed... and he had clearly descended into the lowest floors of the netherworld, where _emo_ and the forefathers slept. Yet, if those closed lids would fling open, would the demon fire burn there? And _not_ in the one holding her? 

_Did __Proud Crescent__ truly have a wicked brother, just like in the Song of Pulunruikkaus, where the lenient king Pyryharakka had a jealous twin Uuttukyyhky, who later killed his own brethren and masqueraded as the dead one...?_   

_Still...__ Everything was so confusing... _

"_Kaksoisveli__..._" a timorous lisp escaped from between the Kalevan's lips. "_O-onko...__ Ylpeaellae K-kuulla tosiaan kak…kaksoisveli... k-kuten s--suuremo…__ Sininen... supatti... Eikoe Ylpeae Kuu olekaan... Herra Tuonen, vaan v-veli on haellae… verenhimoinen, Manan Ruhtinas… mustasieluinen… petturi kavala… Ja Tuoniko itse... nyt o-on huijarin niellyt…?_"

Lightyear squinted his suddenly prickling eyes, and felt as though a burden the size and weight of Mount Everest had just been lifted from his shoulders. _She was awakening from Evil Buzz' curse, she was believing Mira's explanation... _Even though the Dark Lightyear was not his genetic twin brother, that rationalization was sufficient. She was very slowly accepting the fact that there were two of them, identical by looks, but opposites by heart. And that the crooked desperado on the flagstones was _the_ _one_ responsible of her misery. Nonetheless, judging by her stuporish slurs, the girl was very delirious. Her conception soared behind the gates of reality, re-living some of the archaic Dark Legends of her tribe. But despite her disorientation, Buzz was swelling with abrupt elation. The inflating joy made his heart hammer violently against his ribs, his chest burn both with relief and passion. He would have wanted to glue her against his thorax and kiss the girl senseless right now and here, make her comprehend fully his fervent love, make her see that the nightmare would be over... 

Nevertheless, Lightyear had to harness the sentiments and rebalance his spinning scull. Even if it felt incomprehensibly tedious. This situation needed iceberg-cool rationality. He had let himself fall too sloppy in the dungeons, and an attitude like that would not help solving the existing dilemmas. Namely, in spite of the captain's sudden jubilance, the limbo was not yet totally over. The ragged victims of this dark adventure were still stuck in this stone whale's stomach like half a dozen Jonah-clones. Most of them needed acute hospital treatment, and the way out was not just beyond one single bunnyhop. The greatest problem obviously was Booster. Nobody was able to carry such an overswollen gastropod, and it became swiftly apparent that XR, despite all the idle junk stored in the pits of his torso, possessed no wheeled stretchers large enough to set that unconscious lump on them. And then there was the pallid figure lying under the rags. Notwithstanding certain bitter opinions gliding in the stuffy air, Evil Buzz could not be left to decay here. After some miscellaneous mumbling and whispering, Lightyear drew the covers back over the foe, and hauled his 'little' precious to rest again on the sofa. The headstones for trust and recovery had been laid, and hopefully the burned house of their union would one day be rebuilt from the ashes. This would require time and subtlety; shattered minds were not patched overnight. In addition, the man could not start any syrup-oozing loveydovey coo-coo show in the corner, but truly had to re-grab the reasonableness and deliberate how to handle the tricky situation. 

Hence, somewhat a heated negotiation blazed up. The shape and color of the hot potato changed every other second, when somebody of the more argus-eyed four came up with a novel idea, only to be turned down instantly.

"Look, I still think either me or XR should try to get out and attempt contacting Star Command or local police forces or anything. The comlinks work fine in the forest clearing. If just--" Nova wheezed through the respirator.

"No, it's still too risky", the jaded Buzz massaged his temples, "Craters, we have to move on as one group. We have only one map. Mira, remember your condition. What if you get a serious asthma attack or something on the way? Who's there to help you? And if XR goes... blast, he's our only protector here, and--"

"Well, when someone figures out a nifty way to drag the wounded brontosaur and the iffy zombie along, we can say hasta la vista to most of the problems", XR kept tilting his magnetically floating head, arms akimbo, "Hmh. Too bad our Jedi Master Zurg here isn't strong enough with the force, otherwise he could've _levitated_ all of us out. And even though my artificial intelligence is one of the seven grand miracles of this galaxy, I don't think even I'm capable of that. Of course one can try..." The mecha extracted a weird assortment of thingamabobs out of his midsection: a black pointed hat, a thick, heavy leather-bound book labeled as '_The Standard Book of Spells: Grade I_', and a polished stick that distinctly looked like a wand. He set the headpiece to roost on top of his dome helmet, flipped the book open, and pointed at Munchapper with the rod. "_Wingardium__ Leviosa_!" 

The Jo-Adian remained on the stone slabs, just as heavy and immovable as before.

"Craters. _Hoverus__ Dinosaurius_! Darn." The android leafed annoyed through the brick-thick volume, "_Ka-Zam! Tarantellegra! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!_ _Bibbidy__ Bobbidy Boo! Through the Power of the Grayscull! Avada Kedav--_" Snorting, the bot ended up kicking the dimwitted book shut. "It's no use. Should've known they tricked me in that Tradeworldian shop. Learn to be a wizard in two weeks... bah. That's for levitation."

Buzz and Mira rolled their eyes at the daft tin can.

"We can't waste our time on stupidities. We have to--" Lightyear retorted grumpily, nonetheless turning swiftly silent because of her waspish blurt.

"Shht! Listen! What's that?" 

Some kind of faint tapping sound was echoing from an indefinite direction. And as the slightly rigid-gone team pricked up their ears, the noise gradually grew more audible. The wriggling, colossal crypts duplicated any sounds so that it was rather difficult to determine their origins. This one rang as though some uncanny many-legged creature with steel-heeled boots had been scampering along the corridors outside, on the way creating more legs under its belly out of thin air. In any case, the clatter seemed to be little by little closing in on the rock leviathan's hippocampus. 

"Wait a moment..." Buzz' brows sprung up, "Is that... Could that be...?"

...to be continued... Comments?   


	26. Pathologist's mistake

AN: Thanks for the new reviews. =) The story's progressing a tad slowly, but I'm trying to finish it this year...

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"_Warp?_" Buzz gasped. 

A baffled-looking blue man had just appeared in the doorway, braking jerkily on his heels as he came tumbling in. Despite the sackcloth, horridly oppressing atmosphere that had been hammering down everyone's hopes more and more forcefully, the Captain had to suppress a fit of laughter. He had almost believed that a black hole had devoured his ex-evil pal, but Darkmatter had obviously just loitered in his usual shady space voyages, and returned only very recently. The scoundrel however managed to appear as though he had just become the new self-proclaimed ruler of the cosmos, with a ludicrous space-robe thrown over the vacuum-resistant suit, a huge wide glistening letter W embellished over his overly broad chest. The epitome of narcissism took a sweeping glance across the chamber, raising a brow,

"Piddling Buzz-buddy, what kind of sauce have ya cooked up this time? The last time I saw ya, ya were supposed to be havin' a smooth coo-time with your kittie. Don't I keep tellin' ya to chill out for once? Quasars... is it true that your sassier twin's sprung up again? Where is he?" He was squinting after the long dark corridors, trying to get used to the green lantern glow. The clattering echoes reverberating from behind him told that more troops were approaching; he had only been on the very stem.

"Craters, Warp, hold your breath!" Lightyear yapped, limping forwards as much as the throbbing legs allowed. Such a relief was filling his inners now: this hell was going to be over, ultimately. Hence he momentarily forgot the situation's graveness, grinning broadly at the alien whose brook of sarcasms never seemed to be dammed. "Blast, where've you been all this time? Bet the good old space ranger spirit in you wouldn't have wanted to miss this mission, a tricky and treacherous fight against the wicked forces of evil."

Darkmatter's visage went to the color of sour milk. "Feh, I'll gladly leave the halo-headed crusader's part for you. Remember, I'm a bad dude."

"And we all know that this 'bad-dudeness' is only superficial. Deep down there somewhere is the golden heart who yearns to fulfill the will of righteousness!"  

Warp stuck out his tongue at this bigotry -the very trademark of Buzz-, looking as though he had wanted to throw up fifty times in row. 

Nevertheless, Lightyear's simper died soon, the tone turning hoarser. "No, seriously, it's good to see you. We truly need help."

The duo turned their gazes towards the room's middle. 

"Oy, what a cheerful place... definitely beats ol' Zurg Tower ten to one in the intergalactic ugliness contest..." Warp's gawk hit the wounded Emperor first. "What's the Big Zee been doin'? Has he finally been wrestling with a Mountain Troll, like he always brags that he's one day gonna do?"

------------------

It did not take eternities to clarify Darkmatter how the planets were aligned. In a few minutes, the moldy subterranean chamber was additionally swarming with space rangers of many shapes and sizes. Warp in his mismatching jubilee costume explained how on the way to Capital Planet with Zarah and Ay'noh, they had randomly popped in Star Command Headquarters. Only to meet Nebula looking like a giant radish with mustache, as he, red in the face, had bellowed to everyone and everything. His orders to send a few units to Morph had been understood somehow wrong: the Star Cruisers had headed to _Murph_, a tiny but obnoxiously criminal asteroid town near Trade World. The excuses had been that who the ninny Neptune had ever heard of any riots on Morph? The planet was so dully calm that beside it even a lambkin looked like a T-Rex who had been fed for a month only with lettuce. Thus the original depart from the HQ had delayed.

And so, from between the fierce growls and showers of spit flying out of Zeb's maw, Darkmatter had understood the patterns and joined the squadron, which had lastly found the right direction. But another idiocy had awaited in Kaon: the rangers that had been ordered to investigate Buzz' house and should have received novel instructions from the Head Commander himself, had furthermore loitered outside the particular building. Sluggishly shuffling their feet and shrugging around, they had appeared utterly clueless of what guidelines to follow. It shortly became obvious that the most dimwitted Star Command crew had been dumped on this sheepish planet, to have some sort of effortless, not-so-brainwork-requiring sheltered work here. And judging by their doughnut-filled stomachs and fat keisters, they had disregarded even the basic workouts.

Perhaps it was true that the Universe Protection was not itself without the few hard-boiled veterans... or then it simply had started becoming sloppy without a constant menace breathing against its nape. Zurg might have been a corny travesty of Darth Vader, but at least his Evil Muffin Rays or whatever z-balderdash had kept the defenders alert.

After the couch potato rangers had been mopped up out of the way, there had been the forest flight ahead. Even though a treeless square existed in the place of the Nex Crucio fortress, no Star Cruiser was able to land there. So the ships had to be left outside the woods, in addition to the grumbling Mrs. Darkmatter, who had insisted to join her mate. But someone had to take care of the rogue kid, who had grown very fond of a big red button on the console reading _Automatic Self-Destruct_ in large, friendly letters. Already trice during the journey from Xaneda to Capital Planet she had been saved from pushing it. Either the lass did not grasp what her parents tried hammering under her black locks, or then she really wanted to see a spectacular explosion.

The proceeding of the Xi Muon's woodland miles had been turned into a jetpack marathon. And more jumble caused that some rookie had crashed against a tree midway around. Nevertheless, the devil's lair had been trivial to uncover once the archaic ruins had been reached. Who would not have spotted a huge reedy hole in the ground, the grass around it still smoldering and all the nearby bushes burnt into black skeletons? Down, down into the abysses the rescuers had descended.

Now that the troops were in, the collecting of the victims became far swifter. Stretchers were constructed for the injured; Booster was lifted on a giant one. And now, seeing the outcome of battles and accidents, even the king of irony's curl of lip somewhat vanished. Every inch here plashed in macabre nausea, from Evil Buzz' corpse to the self-accusatory Zurg, who was turning ever surlier. As his freedom had already been balancing on a fish line stretched above a mile-long torrent full of piranhas, now everything in his eyes appeared devastated. Darkmatter had to join the nag choir of Buzz and Mira, who attempted brainwashing the old Emperor to apprehend that he was not going to spend the rest of his days on PC-7 because of the mirror universe foe's fate. Even though it was a mischief against his life-long parole, he would stay free of guilt. Perhaps tardily that dark, aged visage would figure out that by his hand, many souls were saved from the serpent staff's altar.

Alike every major adventure so far, even this one seemed to end up in the arms of a hospital. There was no reason to send the injured to Capital Planet or Star Command HQ, since Kaon sported very adequate medical premises. Lord Hyperon's Hospital was sited at the lake, sitting in a hodgepodge of buildings from diverse eras. The core was the oldest, an elaborately cut stone edifice, the architecture bearing resemblance to Tellurean Baroque with all the little carvings and statues of formidable physicians decorating its front. Its right side, an assortment of extensions varying blaringly with style from clumsy angular grey to sleekly smoothed green-white, was stretching itself nearer and nearer the petite local university, which had a diligent partnership with it. Mostly the hospital was being used by the small human population. The Grays preferred home calls even with more serious illnesses; thus they were scarcely seen around.

******

The whole escapade left piles of oozingly dirty laundry to be assorted, which meant tons of nitpicky paperwork. On top of everything was naturally the discovery of Evil Buzz. Some of his victims would have probably wanted to leave him to rot in his own grotto, but Star Command did not take such events casually. As soon as the hospital was reached, the villain was set in a cryogenic chamber to wait for an autopsy. Any larger-scale reports concerning this issue would probably take weeks to become even half-ready.

The Red Viper cult's reincarnation was like a fish-slap on the face for some of the town's authorities. Though hush-hushed and silenced, Kaon ostensibly recalled a great deal about the excruciating days of the hidden threats. And even now, the whole finding was rapidly sealed and pushed into the box of classified files. Nothing of the nature of the Evil Lightyear's hideout was mentioned in the screaming Holonet news spreading in lightspeed throughout the Alliance. It was dubious whether the city's high maestros were even going to let the local police forces investigate fully the subterranean spaces. If not, the issue would soon fall into the previous state of hemi-oblivion, only carried on by obscure rumors.  

The Captain could not comprehend why such naïve furtiveness was needed; he had always supported the freedom of speech and loathed such corrupted secrecy. Nevertheless... as he scrutinized his thoughts, he learned that he possessed very sparse preparedness to meet the storm that would follow if he, one of the epic heroes of the Gamma Quadrant of Sector Four, was publicly revealed to be the spawn of an ancient and long-lasting evil. So, perhaps the quietude was a treat, in a contradictory way. 

As the days went on, his mental tiredness towards Morph and especially Kaon increased exponentially. This wretched city, sweet and idyllic from the outside but such putrid insincerity from the inside, was granting him nothing but disturbing illusions. As he sprawled in the ward, his glum father sitting beside the bed, he was intensively seeking for a getaway. Zora was recovering more quickly, and would bark buh-byes to the hospital the following morning.

"Only wish I hadn't sold my Capital Planet quarters now, would've fit us nicely... Even though I'm aware that moving there would confuse poor Yoka again. But everything's better than this... I'm quite certain she believes our house to be possessed. There's no returning there, she'd go permanently off the rocket..." Lightyear sighed misty-eyed, fiddling his beard. "...Quiet and distant she is, still in a shock of some sort. Asked me yesterday if half-demons really can die... thinks the accursed foe was some kind of a higher being... Poor thing, at least she's talking to me a bit now, and doesn't try to kick me if I come nearer..." 

The Emperor's brow furrowed. "Do not worry, son. There is always room for you in my glorious palace. I shall order the Grubs to prepare you some unused, but dandily purple rooms in the cellar floor. I--" he clutched at his bandaged side with a hairy hand, "I, unfortunately, am not in a condition to go and gather your possessions... -and to remind you about your horrid taste of colors, boy, do get rid of the ugly green-white furniture, eygh, such iffy things shall ruin the nefarious touch of cranberry with which I have so carefully tinted my empire-, but I am positive that Agent Z-- eh, Darkmatter with his lackeys can handle the moving. I only need your keycard and the house's contract... Eh, I shall sell it, shan't I?" he lastly asked, not fully assured.

"Blasted hovel, it may go", the younger man grunted. Relieved because he would have at least a tiny calm haven amidst these tumults, he cared a flying maggot's poo about Zoxedaszeĉ's out-of-place side comments. "Thanks, dad. And oh yeah--" he lowered his voice so that no extraneous ears would catch his whispers, "Had a vidcall with Zeb this morning... mainly asked how I was doing, but he mentioned he's sorting out your accident. I don't know if you've heard from your parole intendant yet, but there's no case against you. You weren't arrested in the first place, and they're definitely not going to put you in prison for this."

A small smile lingered on Zurg's lined visage for a moment.  

**---Two days later, Kaon---**

Night slowly descended. The air was full of dewy grass' fragrance and soft wail of evening birds, the atmosphere almost ridiculously mellow. The sun's last kiss, a warm, bright-orange halo, was still lingering upon the rooftops.

A thumb pushed a button on a remote control. A set of Venetian blinds zoomed down to cover a petite window, through which the last remains of the evening's luminosity still were filtering. White, round lights fastened in the ceiling were switching automatically on. The hand jostled the remote aside, and picked up a small electronic notepad instead.

"Lessee... today's case..." A bored grunt playing on his visage, a middle-aged man leaned backwards in his chair, scrutinizing the green lines in the holo-monitor. Very tall, yet round-shouldered and rather bony, he had greasy tufts of ginger hair growing on his balding head, a pair of glasses sitting on his thin and pointed nose, flecks of stubble of the same color strewn across his somewhat weak-looking, clefted chin. A white laboratory jacket hung loosely on top of a set of rather uncared-for-looking garments. A lopsided nametag reading 'L. S. L.' was pinned on the breast pocket. In overall, the whole appearance of this male was breathing some sort of lazy ennui towards life. But mostly it could be read from his brown, bloodshot eyes, whose expression seemed to be stuck on the cynicism gear for forever.

He typed something onto the notepad, took a glance at the clock, and stood up. His steps meandered out of the mediocre office, across a gleaming white but empty hall, into an elevator that was soon speeding softly down with magnetic levitation.

"Fifth cellar floor: Mortuary, Cryo-chambers, and the Department of Pathology", a cold, electronic female voice drawled. The male scowled. 

_Why did it always have to repeat the level names? Imbecile computer... He had worked here for years, what were the odds that he would not find his way around? As though he had suddenly become a blind slug that was recovering from lobotomy...   _       

These premises, where this man currently swore the retardation of present day's automatics, were a part of Kaon's one and only hospital. Not too far away, some of the Nex Crucio hell's victims were still resting. This wing, however, stretched itself most towards the lake.

The lightning down here radiated just the same soulless coldness as the quarters themselves, with pale yellow orbs that contrasted somewhat sickly with the dull gray walls. Death was a permanent guest here, its form only changing slightly as bodies were carried in and out. Silent was this department; Kaon after all was a small town, and not so frequently autopsies were made. Criminality was sparse, the citizens healthy and of the long-life type. Now, however, the issue of Evil Buzz had brought a fresh case in. Star Command was requiring detailed data about the cause of death, for it was a wanted super-criminal in question. 

The male in question was one of the very few pathologists dwelling in Kaon; reckless maybe with the most aspects of his life, but very accurate in his work. Thus... it was not a surprise why such a misanthropic mien had been permanently burnt onto his gaunt, sunken face. Rot and decay seemed to be his sole friends, from year to year... Indeed, something had to be very wrong under that balding crown, as to _enjoy_ such a macabre job as this. Some kind of ill interest towards the curse of the mankind, mayhap...

And yet, something in this person was yearning for change. Life had become so dull in this minuscule city, where everyone and everything seemed so out of reach. Tomorrow was the perfect copy of yesterday, and the hours pounded onwards like the tedious beat of a ramming machine. Perhaps he had his few daily discussions with the hospital colleagues, but there was his social life: superficial and just as monotonous as the speeding years. Change... but that was nonexistent.

The partly shadowed operating room reverberated his steps on the metallic floor. On a flat hover table, under a thin plastic sheet, was lying the corpse of Buzz' mirror universe twin. Some time ago, it had been removed from the Cryo-chamber, de-frosted and dried for the necropsy. The pathologist worked alone as often as possible. According to him, any company was only distracting the studies. And this case was supposed to be as though stealing a lollipop from a toddler: a heart attack caused by a plasma blast was trivial to diagnose with a bit of dissecting. So, no need for meddling colleagues.

Silent... a few sallow lamps above the operating table pulsated their tiresome light. _Clank, clank, clank_, the man approached the body, pulling on lime-green plastic gloves and adjusting the respirator mask over his mouth and nose. He removed the covers spread over the foe till the waistline. Not a single wrinkle deepened or smoothed out on his apathetic face, even though the view below was swimming in plain nastiness. The cryogenic freezing had of course ceased the natural processes for a while, but still an ugly-looking gangrene had started crawling up the villain's left arm, not to mention the other disgusting bruises.

"So... this is the famous Evil Buzz Lightyear..." he only mumbled, "...and so crumbles the fame..."     

On a petite aid table beside the carcass lay an assortment of surgical tools: laser knives for cutting, tweezers, spare gloves, tissues, and so on. The pathologist picked up a session recorder in order to switch it on. Yet, now the facial indifference was shooed away. Frowning, he examined at the gadget. It looked as though someone had recently dropped it and attempted repairing it with severely poor engineering skills. How had he not noticed its odd condition while bringing in all this apparatus? Shrugging, he inserted a nanodisk in, and pressed the 'record' -button.

"Aiiieeh!" the male interjected, as the widget suddenly sprung to life far more vividly than it was supposed to, sizzling and rattling ominously, several blue sparks flying out of the energy supply case. His shocked hands lost their hold, and the recorder leapt in the air, crashing next onto the operating table. As it rebounded from the metallic frame, it shattered in several parts. The minuscule crystallic fusion shard and the electrolyte where it floated, were spilled out with a splash.

Nonetheless, this was not the end. The spark-spitting thingamabobs could have less liked the metallic operating table, now that even the 'battery' was on the loose. And as the capacity of these space-age energy supplies were far more something else than the archaic AA-alkalines... Blindingly blue streaks shot out of them, in a nanosecond circulating the whole table, enclosing it into a high-voltage embrace. They hit its hover mechanism, and thus, even more lightnings darted to accompany the flock of existing ones. So forceful the fizzling cage of bolts was now, that it made the corpse twitch. The drooping lank hair began to stand on end, and the beard curl. The sheet, fireproof material as it was, lounged there as though perfectly nothing was occurring.

Eyes drawn wide with horror, the pathologist retreated towards the chamber's door. Metallic floor was perhaps easy to sanitize, but what a hazard, when exposed to electric charges. Clearly the pinions in the architect's scull had been covered with thick rust... Just when he jumped inside the tiny atrium, which at least was separated from the operating room with an insulating threshold, the table supporting the malignant one came rattling down from the mid-air. The body rolled away from it, and ended up lying out of the reach of the few lamps.

Holding his breath, an alert hand on the front door's handle, the pathologist stared at the vista. Everything seemed calming down now; apparently the large floor area was speedily discharging the electric storm. Grounded as it was, all charges would die down soon in any case. But the mess was atrocious. The operating table was completely wrecked, the supposed-to-be-dissected lying in a heap in the shadows, the surfaces littered with crooked garbage and cutting tools that had fallen from the aid table. The latter one was the only piece of furniture actually still standing intact, floating alone above the chaos.

The male cursed his infernal luck. Now what? He would need to call for help; he hardly would have strength even to lift that carcass up. And yet, how he loathed any interference... on his opinion, other people's presence would just make everything worse. And besides, how was he going to explain this foul-up to the head of the department? There was simply nothing more annoying than futile paperwork and inventing cover stories... Namely, this male was such an irksomely proud perfectionist in certain work-related issues that he would simply hate to admit that there had been even a minor flub in his job. 

The fist on the doorknob hesitated. What if... Would he be able to sort this out on his own, after all? Down the hall, there were spare operating tables in a storeroom. And a cleaner bot... could he program it to assist him so much that it would lift up the dead one and carry this litter in the trash compacter without nobody getting a hint of what had happened? And whoever had so cleverly endeavored repairing the recorder... he or she would be sacked, as he knew nice and stealthy ways to avenge such insufferable dimwits. His thin mouth behind the mask curved into a sneering smirk, his pupils alight with malice.

The quick brooding came into an even fleeter conclusion. He would handle this on his own. Nonetheless, the amount of damage would have to be measured, how else would he know how to sweep all the boo-boos under the carpet? The floor obviously had sucked the electric charges by now, but still he did not want to get a free perm. There were some idle paraphernalia in the atrium, from among which he picked up some random metallic object and tossed it onto the main chamber's floor. It landed there with a hollow _clonk_, no angry sparks darting up.

_It was safe._

Of course, that did not make the mini-pandemonium any less tangled. Nonetheless... it did not seem completely hopeless. The cleaner bot would definitely be able to eradicate the trash... maybe it would require some extra time, but always he could lie that the necropsy was a bit tedious... Slowly he slouched towards Evil Buzz, musing.

"What the---" escaped suddenly from his throat. _No, it was impossible, his eyes had to be lying... _Or were the shadows plain creating illusions?

_It was as though the corpse had jerked an inch..._

Confused, he adjusted his glasses, likewise squinting to see better. No, it had to be just some minuscule trash on the lens, now the dead one seemed just as immovable as it ought to be. He took a step nearer the body, shrugging semi-indifferently. _Why did he not just take the ocular laser trimming, those did not cost more than a regular wristcom these days... foolish, he could get rid of the stupid glasses..._

He crouched down to study how much the electric storm had damaged the already contused villain. _Darned darkness, why the lamps had to be cluttered in that one single spot...?___

What were supposed to be the earthy remains of Evil Buzz, were sprawling on their left side. Back against the pathologist, his head was bent and hidden somewhere behind the wide thorax. One gloved hand taking a hold of the body, the medical expert was about to turn it over.

_But__ the flesh under his palm was not cold._

_The electric shock could not have heated the corpse THAT much..._

_...or could it?_

_**********_

_"----UAAAUAAAAUAAAAUAAAAUAAAAUAAAAUAAAAUAAAAA----"_

A fire alarm had burst into squeals somewhere. In the ward, Buzz startled awake from his dogsleep.

-----------

To be continued... Comments?


	27. Shadow and flame

The fire alarm continued to moan shrilly. Buzz leapt out of his bed like an overstrung spring. Convalescent perhaps, but did the ranger sense take minor details in account when a whole swarm of innocent civilians might be endangered? The three-bedded ward where he had been accommodated, half-dark since the common hours of quietude had fallen, was empty excluding the Captain. He collected his slippers and the few personal possessions he had in the nightstand's top drawer, and half-limping scrambled out. Outside in the hallway, a few better-conditioned, yet confused-looking patients in their pajamas were peering hither and thither in the hope of spotting a nurse.

In situations like this, Lightyear's cool rational determination reached its summit. "Order around, those able to walk on their own, proceed to the fire escape immediately! It's down this corridor, in the left, follow the green signs. Don't waste your time, we don't know what this is about. It may be a false alarm, but you never know. Now, go, go, go!" he shouted with his long-carrying baritone voice, gesticulating towards the exits. And luckily, the custodians and medical staff on nightshift were beginning to swarm out of various doors, thus leaving the man free to rush away and find the Kalevan. 

From the victims of the mirror universe foe, only he and Yoka remained in this hospital. Mira had lodged a few rooms apart from the Emperor's son, but had left earlier the same day. Star Command had transferred her all the way to Rhizome on a longer sick leave. Even though the planet was such a lair of flower-power hippies, its climate and spas were ideal to soothe down her sudden outbreak of asthma. Also Booster, still teetering in a rather dangerous state, was gone. It had appeared that this town's medical wonders were not quite intended for such half-dinosaurian anatomy, hence making a shift to Capital Planet obligatory.

Lightyear was very aware that he should have dashed out instead of zooming along the initially rather packed aisles. Undoubtedly his wife was in good hands, mayhap already brought out by some nurse. Nonetheless, it was the commonplace space ranger valor pounding in his scull again. A menace, a challenge was facing him: the damsel was in distress and needed the valiant knight to slay the icky dragon. And how he perfectly forgot the fact that Yoka-hanen was no puny blonde poppet who fainted when seeing a mouse... Moreover, if there had been such a fantasy freak-out, he would have probably discovered the wannabe-Xena sitting on top of a _former_ dragon, swinging her huge crossbow and singing some Gibberish warrior song with a broad grin. Now, however, neither the hubby nor the squaw was in the condition of dragonslaying, so the situation was rather different.

Unbuttoned pajama shirt billowing out behind him, other slipper lost somewhere amidst the tumult, he was reaching the psychiatric ward. But Buzz' worries melted there and then; some custodian was already carting the wheelchair-bound Indian out. Despite the somewhat heavy tranquillizers used to cancel out the furthermore lingering agitation, she seemed very alert and aware that something had broken this building's peace. Attempting to dart up, she enquired ceaselessly with an irritable tone,

"Wat ees? _Onko syttynyt sota taivon tantereilla, kuun ja taehtien kotikonnuilla? Miksi soi kimakka sotatorvi?_ Wheer yu _kuljettaa_ me?"

Ostensibly the nervousness rate was only increased by the fact that there was no familiar face around her. Only this shrill 'war-trumpet', as she called the fire alarm's brawl, reverberating among the anarchy. It was always a perturbing experience to remain alone in this confusing welkin, where everything quarreled with the common sense and every following meter was littered with perplexing surprises. The hauler kept a silent and woody face, which however quite did not cover the annoyance towards this hyperactive asker, whose broken accent allowed him to understand maybe one word in two sentences. 

"I'll take it from here." Lightyear almost jostled the male aside, grabbing the wheelchair's handles. 

She turned her open-mouthed gaze at him. Proud Crescent. And seemingly the _real _one, since this one had no sparkles of death in his eyes. And was not the evil brother tied into the ice grotto of _Manala_, not having the power to escape? Even though there was no thorough confidence towards the space ranger after the impersonator inferno, at least it was a familiar countenance near her. Who probably would also clarify that what the heck was wrong over here. 

"Hey--!" the caretaker snapped. But before the custodian grabbed Buzz' collars in order to demand what rights he had for stealing patients that way, he shoved an Universe Protection Unit ID card under the man's schnoz.

"Star Command personnel, Captain Lightyear. You go back to help the others, son."

And truth to be told, the warden was more than happy to leave that jittery Lady Gobbledygook behind. And, as Buzz began dragging the seat onwards in this sea of stir, she repeated every single question that had vexed the previous helper. But he did not become exasperated, moreover tried his best without a translator to explain that they were not going to be grilled if this was a real emergency. 

One of the unfortunate side effects of Yoka's imprisonment had been the forgetting of some preliminary English expressions. And perhaps it had partly been intentional. Withering tied-up in the cell, her mind had squeezed itself inside a cocoon of stupor, willing to believe that this all was just a restless night's demonic reverie, and she would soon awaken into a brisk frost morning in her teepee... Proud Crescent and all this madness never even existing. Even now the Indian could not be fully assured whether the present was real or just another continuation of that same nightmare... all winding up in that blue shimmering cell once more. This semi-conscious state was mostly the fault of the tranquillizers, which made the thinking incoherent and slightly delirious. Yet... something in his voice clang in a manner that boosted up the feeble assurance that after all, everything _might_ end up okay.

When the couple reached the emergency exit and the down-going outdoors ramps, the Captain noticed that his hurrying was not in vain. A red turbulence was reigning over the first floor of the wing stretching most towards the lake. In addition, the fire was spreading with considerable speed, and probably would soon usurp the level above. His cranial cogwheels were doing simultaneous pondering while limping down the rattling metal ramp and preventing the wheelchair from rolling down on its own. This ward was sited in the sixth floor, and the drop down was not measured in nanoscales. But the fire's source... Lightyear had been in that very wing, though in the underground compartments. Morbid perhaps, but he had fairly recently taken her down there to see how Evil Buzz' corpse was sealed in a semi-transparent Cryo-chamber, before today's scheduled autopsy. He had presumed that if she re-confronted the fact that there were two identical Lightyears co-existing, the understanding would be founded on stone basis. After all, she had been very phlegmatic during the first sight of the dead one.

Yet, where could that fire possibly have started from...? Something in this simple notion was making his eyes narrow. An accidental case, most probably, but why was his ranger sense giving this irritating twirp in his subconscious? Why such a disaster just _today_ and _there_...?    

Indeed, it was a horrible calamity concerning the hospital. Many patients were glued to their beds and attached even tighter to tubes or life-supporting machinery. Tiny frail creatures in incubators, withered individuals waiting for crucial surgical treatments... Destroyed organs could be restored with cyberbiotic replacements these days, but even still there were the waiting times before one would achieve new health... Thus, it was impossible even to get everyone of the more permanent lodgers out of the edifices. Maybe endeavor moving them into different wards from the way of the fire, but not entirely out in such a little time. Where this all would lead, only the following minutes would show...

The pong of smoke suffocated the summer night's sweetish fragrance under it, the trill of nocturnal birds jostled aside by the high-pitched fire engine sirens. Several hovercrafts were soaring towards the roaring nest of flames. Down on the yard, part of the nightshift staff were directing the small horde of able-to-walk patients that so far had been evacuated from the building from the way of the arriving firefighters. Somewhere a window shattered under the intense heat, showering shards of glass to glimmer in the dewy grass.

Buzz was reaching the joint between the fourth and third floor ramps, stomping onwards as quickly as the stream of rather sluggishly advancing multitude of limping and moaning evacuees allowed. It seemed that the hospital had no crew enough to help every ill one in need, whereas the firemen had barely descended from their ships. Someone was throwing up over the ramp's safety fence, some bright optimist in the right of him kept wailing 'We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!' in a shrieking tone.

"No citizen is going to be harmed, if we keep in order and move on!" he retorted, becoming for a second oblivious of what was occurring in the left. A hysteric man crashed through the door leading to the third floor's ward. Stumbling, the panicky one fell hard against Lightyear's back, which resulted in him getting knocked over and ending up onto the same wheelchair with Yoka, his legs sticking out over the backrest. Instantaneously, the seat became uncontrolled, and started rolling down the slope with an increasing speed. The thunderstruck crowd absconded out of the way as fast as possible, putting the previously semi-calm fire escape into utter pandemonium. And if there had not been screams enough already, now a positive screech choir took over the quarters.

"AIIIEEEEHHHAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" the duo added their portion to the noise. Unfortunately Buzz was in such a tangled position that 'jumping off' did not even belong to the situation's vocabulary. And only a few meters ahead was the landing where the ramp did an U-turn and began descending towards the second floor. Hence, if nobody was going to tame that berserk-gone piece of invalid furniture, it most likely would smash against the metallic rail and send the space ranger flying over it.

Nonetheless, seemingly a doze of tranquillizers was not enough to smother the quick reflexes that had been developed during tens of years of hunting. Additionally, these controlled hospital medics were nowhere near the nasty Karnian beast sedative applied in the dungeons. Even though Yoka was in a very awkward position somewhere under Buzz' over 100-kilogram bulk, her sinewy hands found the manual handlebars. They were extremely hard to wrench under this considerable weight, but she nonetheless grabbed them hard, and forced the haywire wheelchair to make a violent 360-degree turn perhaps half a meter before the steep's end. Still, it had speed enough left to rumble onto the next slope. Down again they speeded, the Kalevan twisting and turning the bars. 

Suddenly, the jeopardy had been clothed with the garments of a thrilling game. Enough increase in adrenaline, and the wild and rather daredevil girl seemed completely losing the sense of danger. Whereas her mate was yawling with horror, she let the old hunting cry echo in the air, mouth in an ear-to-ear grin as metal banged and clattered, the chair whizzing along and wobbling dangerously in the verge of keeling over. After two more U-turns, the whole mess reached the ground. It consumed its last kinetic energy by storming on the pavement, finally hitting the side of a decorative fountain. And here, Buzz received his change to flit. In a graceful semicircle, he fell into the water with an almighty splash. And when the soaked man clambered out of the pool, Yoka-hanen was absolutely exited, clapping her hands and howling with laughter. Considering the seat's now very wrenched and misshapen condition, it was rather miraculous that it did not shatter into pieces like a house of cards under her, but still subsisted in an upright position. In the background, a pair of custodians was running towards them to lend a helping hand.

"Craters. You haven't changed a bit." Lightyear shook his head with a simper, brushing some wet locks from over his eyes, "Who the jumping Jupiter tied you in a wheelchair anyway? I bet you could've walked finely on your own." Despite the occasion's arrant foolishness, he was happier than in days, seeing now that the old spirit in her had not perished. The same half-crazy vigor he first had loathed, but learned to love through error and humility.

And so, the ramp racers rejoined the increasing crowd of evacuees, which were being transferred to some temporary shelter. The firefighters had started clearing out the flame squall, spraying the inferno with oxygen-smothering foams. Sirens wailed and blinked, the night's ethereal magic long lost gone...

...and still, the lake behind the panorama was pastoral, its surface barely rippling in the pools of pale moonlight. On a lonely island, the ruins of the Baryon Castle stretched themselves towards the stars, their sharp towers greeting those nightly friends. The jungles of rush bordering the shore stood immovable. As the heavenly lanterns could not reflect their silvery rays from them, they remained as dull, black blotches plaguing the water that looked almost like liquid glass in its serenity. And yet... when carefully scrutinized, one of these murky shallow forests did not appear so dead after all. Something was moving near the thicket's edge, something streamlined and narrow, nonetheless as sackcloth as the background... Slowly it glided onwards, drifting apart from the mainland... a tiny boat with its lights extinguished and for the most part covered with tarpaulins. There and then, a paddle touched the water, pushing the vessel onwards a tad more... Once or twice, the twinkle above flashed back from what could have been the lenses of spectacles.

The night went on, ever deepening and blackening... Soon, the reeds were just as monotonous as before. The boat had been just a wavering guest beside them, now gone, swallowed by the darkness.

Nothing moved in the horizons, except the graying dawn hours later. 

--------------

TBC.


End file.
